


Say Amen

by BeTheSammyToMyDean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dark, Fluff, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17693309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeTheSammyToMyDean/pseuds/BeTheSammyToMyDean
Summary: Mr. D. Smith, 29, looking for a bdsm relationship, no strings attached.S. Wesson, ??, looking for someone to play with.





	1. The Beginning

Turn off the alarm. Make the bed. Shower. Shave. Cologne. Aftershave. Dress. Coffee. Toast. Brush teeth. Shoes. Coat.

Everything was the same every morning for Dean Smith. There weren't many changes on a day to day basis, if there even were any. He liked the repetition of the tasks, liked that it was the same and that there was nothing unexpected about it. That's how he liked to start his days, that's how he got ready. Calm, collective, poised. 

And once he had gotten himself all ready, he got in his car, and drove to his work. He had his own company, and a pretty important one at that. He was one of the big players out there, one of the big guys who had a lot of influence on the market. Dean liked his job. Most of it had to do with numbers and meetings and going through papers while people worked for him to get everything perfect. It was definitely stressful, because it was his own company and he could never really let it go even when he wasn't at work anymore, but he still loved it.

Though, the stress definitely wasn't really good for him. Dean tried to live very healthy. He ate fruits, vegetables, salads for lunch, hardly any fats and carbs. It showed, too. He had a very amazing figure, and he didn't have a home gym for nothing. But, stress sometimes got to him mentally, and tired him out. He knew what kind of problems stress could cause, and he was definitely a little afraid of them- or, worried. 

Dean just wished that he could let go of the stress from time to time, you know? Just relax and sit back and live his life. But that was hard for him, mostly because he didn't know how to do something like that. Dean had never been a laid back person. His entire life he had spent studying and working to get himself where he was now, and he was proud of himself but at the same time he felt like he hadn't actually accomplished anything. He didn't have anyone to celebrate all these things with in his life, and that hurt. 

No friends, no family, no nothing. He had friends in the past, but because he studied so much and because he always put his career and image first, Dean lost all of them. Sadly. And yes, he still had a father and a mother and a sister, but they were all the way across the country and Dean hadn't spoken to them in, what, over seven months? He was a terrible person.

He was rich, had an amazing job, and had fulfilled all the dreams he had in his life. And now? He was done. He didn't really have anything else to live for. He was basically a twenty-nine year old man with nothing in his life but... Work. And it was all his own fault. Dean wanted to change that, because he didn't want the rest of his life to be like this, but he had no idea how to change it. How to make a difference and be with people that he loved, and even make some friends.

As soon as he would arrive at the big, tall, grey building of Smith&Co, Dean would park his car at his usual spot, walk inside, greet everyone he came across with a nod (no smile), and go up to his office. 

Dean liked his office. It was a big space with big windows at two walls, giving him an amazing view of the city but with classy white wooden shutters that could give him some privacy. The other walls were white, with one framed painting of mountains. Dean didn't believe in much decoration or coziness, he didn't think that would improve how you worked. Then, aside from beautiful mahogany floors, he had a white carpet right at his desk. The desk was a nice big wooden desk which was usually filled with neatly stacked papers, a phone, a computer, a laptop, and a cup of coffee. There were three chairs in the room, one at the door, and two at the desk. One was for Dean, and the other one for whoever came in to talk to him. Oh, and there was one plant which Dean had miraculously kept alive throughout many months now. 

It was a nice office, nice and light, just the way Dean liked it. After getting a cup of coffee, Dean would go to his office and turn on his company computer, check in on important emails and reply to some while flagging some to be replied to for later. Then he would check his schedule for any meetings or anything important that day, before starting on the paperwork that his assistant had left on his desk. 

But, lately, Dean had a new addition to his rituals. It wasn't perfectly the same anymore every single day, because there were some random, sporadic checks of emails, notifications, and one single site. The change in his usually completely carefully thought out, repetitive, no straying from the schedule day had left Dean with a buzz of excitement coursing through his veins every single time he checked a new notification.

It wasn't like Dean to do anything like this. There was only one person who had  _ever_ caught Dean's eye, and that was a beautiful girl with the name of Cassie. She had been a very smart, elegant, and yet very different than any girl Dean had ever met. He had never really thought about his sexuality, because he simply didn't care very much. Dean had been attracted to some people out there, but he was very... Picky, if anything. Male, female, Dean didn't really care about that. It was more so the inside and the outside that mattered to him. But, then again, Dean never really had put much thought to having a relationship, or put any effort into getting one. He had been on some dates with Cassie, kissed, had sex, but that was everything. 

So, no, he had never thought that he would be on a site like this. He wasn't looking for a relationship, because again, work came first to him and no one, no boy or girl, would be able to handle that from him. All he wanted,  _needed_ , was to have someone who could make him relax. 

Dean had done some research into the site, and into the different relationships that were offered on it. This wasn't a normal dating site, because it wasn't for dating at all. It was more for, well, for people who wanted some things that weren't usually accepted immediately by society. But, Dean knew (or thought) that this was going to help him de-stress at least a little, and he would do anything for that. 

And after much debating with himself and spending an entire evening with a bottle of the finest of Whiskeys and a piece of paper and a pen, writing down the pros and the cons, Dean had finally made an account. He hadn't put out his full name, and hadn't put out a picture of his face. Instead he had made a picture of the painting in the wall and put it as his profile picture, just because he couldn't exactly ruin his reputation with all of this.

_Mr. D. Smith, 29, looking for a bdsm relationship, no strings attached._

Dean didn't get many reactions to his profile, and most of the ones he did get weren't serious. Even though he didn't want a real relationship out of it, he still wanted someone who at least wasn't childish. But that day, something caught his eye. Someone had messaged him, just a simple  _'Hello'._

It was very different from the usual pictures of someone's genitals, or a disgustingly tacky pick up line that Dean had already heard before in one of the romantic movies he watched on Saturdays. Dean clicked on the profile, looking at the picture. It wasn't a face, no, it was... Abdomen. Very toned abdomen. Tan, strong, muscled. Dean licked his lips before scrolling down, reading through the information- or, lack thereof. 

Apparently there wasn't much to this guy. Dean had at least filled his profile out a little, with some vague information about his eye-color and his body type and his favorite food. But this guy? Nothing. 

_S. Wesson, ??, looking for someone to play with._

Dean didn't really know what to think of that, of this description. It was, again, very different and slightly off-putting. But at the same time, Dean was drawn to it, like a fly to honey. He wanted to know more about this guy, and why he hadn't even put out his age there. Maybe he was like Dean? A very important business owner who could lose everything he had built up just because of something like this?

He just had to message him, there was no way he couldn't. So, Dean strayed even further from his usual business day ritual, and actually messaged someone back for the first time since he had made a profile on the site. The whole thing, even just the idea of it, sent a shiver down Dean's spine so strong that his hands trembled with it. 

_'Good morning, mister Wesson. I was very glad to receive your message, and I am very curious as to why you decided to send it to me. I would like to message more, if you are still interested. Please, message me back. Kindest of regards, D. Smith'_

Dean sighed and sat back, trying to calm down his shaking hands. This was so different from anything that he had ever done, and it was making him feel all jittery, like that one time he had been drunk. There was just so much adrenaline coursing through his veins right now. And honestly? It was amazing...


	2. The Beginning - Part Two

Dean didn't have to wait long for a new message. It was still the same day, and he had been checking his phone even more than normal since all he wanted was to have a message. He tried to keep himself composed, but, it was pretty much impossible with how excited he was. Dean had never felt like this. He had never let his feelings depend on anyone, and he had never let anyone influence them because there was no way he, Dean Smith, was going to let anyone tell him what to do.

Except for, well, in the sexual world. 

Dean wasn't a virgin anymore, he could honestly say that. He has had sex before, and it had been good. Well, mediocre. It was fine, just not exactly what he needed. Sure, Dean got an orgasm out of it, but it wasn't exactly how he had imagined an orgasm to be. If he thought about it he imagined it to be a lot better, more explosive, longer lasting, more tiring, just better in general. But, no matter how he had an orgasm, it just never was as great as he had hoped it was. And yes, sure, he was emotionally unavailable but that didn't mean he was physically not as good as the guy next door. Hell, he was pretty sure he was better with what he could take.

Dean had done much research on the different kinds of sex, and the only thing that got him turned on, was the mentions of all things BDSM. Bondage, domination, roleplay, masochism, submission, all kinds of those things. That was the only thing that Dean found to really turn him on, and he wondered if that meant that there was something wrong with him. Normal people didn't enjoy such painful things, right? At least Dean didn't think they did.

When Dean's phone beeped, signalling a new message coming in, he nearly dropped it with how quick he tried to grab it from his desk. He let out a deep sigh, collecting himself and his thoughts so he was calm again, before opening it.

_'Very polite, huh? Morning to you too, Dean. I sent my message to you cause I think you're very interesting, or at least your profile makes you seem so. And of course, we can message more. I can't wait to talk to you. -Wesson.'_

Apparently this man wasn't as... Polite and formal as Dean was. It kind of turned Dean off a little, he didn't like that way of talking. But, he would ignore it. For now, at least. The message was at least positive, and Dean liked being interesting, he didn't think he had ever been interesting before. That was why he didn't have anyone who even tried to be friends with him anymore.

Or maybe that was just because he wasn't very nice.

Whatever it was, Dean liked being interesting to someone for once. Especially to this guy, in whom he was also interested. Very interested, for that matter. Dean hadn't even given much information in his profile, just the necessary things. He had filled in everything correctly, hadn't lied on any question, and he didn't think that anything in there could be fascinating to anyone. Dean didn't understand why the site needed to know what his body was built like, and he had chosen for the  _'Muscled with something to grip onto'_ option. Whatever that meant.

_'Yes, I prefer to be polite as it gives a good first impression. I am glad I seem interested to you, and I do wonder if you know what exactly I am looking for. -Kind regards, D.S.'_

Dean had hardly put his phone back on his desk before he heard another soft ding, making him nearly jump up from his seat. This man was quick at replying, and Dean appreciated that. He didn't like people who took hours or even days before they replied. Dean usually didn't take long to reply himself, especially not with this Wesson guy. 

_'Don't worry, darling, I know exactly what a man like you needs, and I can give it to you. I can and will satisfy you, if you give me the chance. -Wesson.'_

_'I don't think you quite understand what I mean. I want someone who can give me what I want, no strings attached. No relationship, no nothing. Just sexual intercourse whenever I need it. -D.S.'_

Dean sat back, licking his lips as he waited for an answer, fumbling with his pen. He had seen so many others who had tried to pretend that they could give him what he needed, but they always wanted too much from him. Way too much. Dean wasn't willing to give them anything but his body and some of his time.

_'I understand that more than anything. I don't want a relationship, I want someone to be my submissive, to give me what I need and to push them to their limits. That's all. -Wesson.'_

Dean smirked, licking his lips again as he squirmed around in his office chair. He was the big boss, an important man. If anyone found out about this, his reputation would be ruined. He had to be careful. It was already dangerous enough to have his good name out there on this website.

_'Good. I would like to meet you. Tomorrow, 6.30, restaurant Gutoz, don't be late. -D.S.'_

_'I can't wait, see you there. I'm sure you'll be perfect. -Wesson.'_

Dean smiled, clicking out of the site and letting out a shuddering breath. Maybe, just maybe, he had found the perfect man. He just needed someone to give him what he wanted, to bring him what he needed. And that was a lot. He had no idea where his limits were, how far he could be pushed, how much he could take, but he was desperate to find out. 

He wondered what this man was planning on doing to him, and he was definitely curious to find out if he could indeed give him what he needed. And the way he worded his messages, it just sounded like it wasn't Dean who was in control anymore. He knew that he was a bottom, but he wasn't sure if he was submissive. Dean liked being in control, loved it, even. Until now, whenever he had bottomed, he had still been pushy and in control. Dean knew what he wanted, and he got what he wanted, always.

Leaning back, Dean turned to look at his reflection in one of the big windows that gave him a view of most of the city. He was pretty attractive, according to all the people who he had ever been with. He had nothing to be nervous about, he had told no lies and he had come clean about what he wanted and needed. But yet, he was nervous about meeting this man. He had no idea what the guy was going to look like, or how old he was. Dean knew nothing about him, pretty much just his last name.

Now that Dean was thinking about it, truly thinking it through, he was actually just being terribly stupid. He was going out with someone he knew nothing about, and he didn't even know if that truly was his last name. He could only hope that it was going to be someone attractive.

Dean closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. His coffee would be cold by now, and he was unable to focus on anything. He needed to, though, there was still a lot of work to do,  _and_ he needed to plan his outfit tomorrow.

Oh God, Dean had no idea what he should be wearing. Was it a date? Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he pushed the thought away. Of course it wasn't a date, they both didn't want a relationship and weren't looking for one, so it couldn't be a date. He would wear something formal, something that showed that he took care of himself and that he liked doing so. Fuck, he really hoped that the man he was meeting up with wasn't a sleazy, gross, lazy, dirty man. Dean would leave the moment he would meet him if that was what he would be like.

Dean let out another deep breath, turning back to his laptop. He needed to focus on his work, and not thing about this  _not-date_ that he was going on the next evening. It was going to be just fine, and maybe, hopefully, he would have found the right man for him...


	3. The First Date

Dean looked at himself in the full length mirror of his bathroom, straightening his tie and making sure his button up wasn't crinkled. He didn't look too shabby, if he could say so himself. Of course, he knew that he wasn't the most handsome man in the world, but, he also knew that he did have some nice facial features. And he was pretty proud of those. The green eyes, the dark, long lashes, the dirty blond hair that he always had nicely combed and styled. He knew he looked like he took care of himself, which he always did. He shaved himself every morning, and made sure he smelled nice, his clothes were washed, and his shirts were ironed. Dean knew that first impressions were everything, but he also knew that he needed to look his best at any second of the day. He was important, and he needed to look the part. 

If anything, Dean was sure that if he was caught not looking like a million bucks, he would probably be fired. There was definitely a chance at that. He had a reputation to keep up, he was one of the big boys. If he walked around with clothes that didn't fit or weren't clean, how could anyone take him serious? How could Dean expect them to do so? He had to take himself serious first before anyone else would. Dean had worked hard to get his job, and he was  _not_ going to lose it to some kind of outfit mishap.

So, there he was, wearing one of his best, white button ups, pristine and perfect. A black tie matched his black suit jacket and pants, and his suit had a nice detailing of dark blue stitching along the seams. Dean even paid attention to the smallest of details. He had his hair combed and gelled, and made sure to moisturize his skin and use aftershave. He smelled nice, of his favorite cologne. Not too much to give anyone a headache, though, just enough to be smelled when he would walk past. Sometimes, when he would have a meeting, there would be men smelling like they had used an entire can of Axe body-spray in one go. Dean did not want to be like that. It just came off as cheap.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Dean ran his fingers over the tie again before he fixed his suit jacket. His tailor had done a great job, once again. Dean knew he looked good, expensive, rich, taken care of, so he had nothing to worry about. He hadn't lied on his profile page on the website, and he knew he didn't have anything strange on his body that could would definitely turn anyone off. But yet, he was nervous. Very nervous. Dean wasn't nervous often, he wasn't very shy and once he had his mind set on something, he knew how to get to it. He was used to talking to strangers for his job, and convincing them to do whatever he wanted, or whatever he knew was best for his company and theirs. This was just some guy he had met online, so there was nothing he should be nervous about.

Except perhaps for the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about this guy, he didn't even know his first name. How could he  _not_ be nervous about this? Hell, he couldn't even be sure if the guy was even going to show up. Oh, great, now Dean had another reason to be nervous. Why could he never just stop thinking at a certain point? There was no reason he had to think for longer than he already was doing, because he had been nervous enough at the start. 

Dean let out another shaky sigh, a deep one that seemed to come from his gut, before he grabbed his wallet and his phone. He left the bathroom, put on his coat, and grabbed the keys to his car. He had to leave now, there was no turning back, and he was never going to forgive himself if he would just stay home, and not even show up. This was going to be it. Hopefully, from this moment on, his life was going to be changed forever...

*

The restaurant wasn't filled with people. Dean liked that. He had picked a pretty expensive place just for this reason, and yes, he was willing to pay. He actually kind of thought that he would be the one paying. He couldn't expect everyone to have just as much money as he did, and it was his idea to go here. Dean had been invited out for dinners before, but that had usually been to diners. How could anyone expect him to go to a diner for a date? Dean knew that he had to appreciate the little things in life, but, fine, he was spoiled. He could admit that. He was used to a certain lifestyle, and while he didn't indulge himself with huge mansions or clothes or cars, he did enjoy to eat well. He deserved it. Some things had been handed to him in life, but he had worked hard to get where he was, and he thought he was allowed to spend at least some of his money on things he liked.

Dean sat at the table he had ordered, his suit jacket unbuttoned and his hands folded on the table. He stared at everyone who came in, trying to figure out if that was his mysterious date for the night. He had no idea how they would even recognize each other, because after all, they didn't know anything about the other. So, Dean had left a message with the waiter at the door, to direct anyone who asked for D.S. to him. It felt like he had to wait for hours before someone walked over to his table. By then he had already pretty much given up, and he had been on his second glass of wine already- or well, his third, actually. He was already a little tipsy, and hardly even noticed it when someone sat down in front of him.

"D. S.?" 

Dean's head snapped up and he looked at the person on the other side of the table, blinking a few times while he tried to keep his mouth shut. This guy was hot, really hot, like extremely hot. He had these amazing sunflower, honey pooled eyes, and those moles, and long, gorgeous, brown, soft looking hair. And his body? Dean couldn't see how tall he was, since they were both sitting, but he was at least like, three feet in width. Okay, maybe that was a little bit of exaggeration from Dean's side but seriously, that guy was buff. 

He had muscles for  _days._ His suit jacket was stretched by biceps, and the buttons on his button-up were straining. They were holding on for dear life just because of the sheer size of those pecs. Holy shit, that guy was gonna be able to just throw Dean around, and Dean definitely did not mind that. He wanted to be thrown around, he wanted to be pushed around and fucked into the bed. Or the wall. Or a table. Honestly, Dean didn't really care  _where_ he was fucked, he just wanted it. Needed it. He just needed dick.

"Yes, that's me," Dean said, nodding his head, finally having regained his composure. He needed to still give his best first impression, not some half-drunk-horndog. That was not who he was. He needed to show this guy that he was going to let him be in charge, but  _only_ when they were having sex. "And your name is...?"

"Sam. Sam Wesson," The guy said, reaching over the table to shake Dean's hand before ordering a whiskey. God, even the way he talked was amazing. Dean wasn't going to be able to handle this, now was he? He had no idea what he even was getting himself into. At least this wasn't a date where his date turned out to be a scary, or ugly person. Or hell, not a guy at all. "So, tell me, what brought you to the site to search for someone... Like me?"

Dean licked his lips, pursing them for a second. He needed to word this the right way, because he still couldn't be sure if he could trust this guy at all. What if he was here to ruin Dean's career? Yeah, maybe Dean was a little bit too strung up, maybe a little too tense, maybe he thought that everyone was against him. But, he couldn't help that. It was just who he was, sadly. 

"I need someone to take care of certain needs," Dean said, sipping his wine again, eyeing Sam through his lashes. He wondered how a guy looking as amazing as that saw someone like Dean. Sam hadn't disappointed Dean in the looks department, but who says Dean hadn't done so for Sam? "And the site did promise me that I would find what I needed. Up until now, I haven't found someone who came even close to looking like they could do what I want them to do."

"Oh, so, you're a needy boy then, huh?" Sam purred out, smirking a little when Dean shivered involuntary. Fuck, yeah, okay, he was totally screwed. This guy was a natural, he knew what he was doing and he knew that he was good at what he was doing. Dean needed someone  _exactly_ like that. "Don't worry, I know exactly what to do to give a guy the best time of his life. And oh boy, am I excited to do all the things I have in mind to you. Do you have anything you don't like?"

"I do have an important job, so, no marks anywhere above the collar or on the hands or wrists. Other places are fine," Dean softly said, sipping his wine again. No matter how good this guy was going to make him feel, or planning on making him feel, his reputation still needed to be up top and he still needed to look pristine and perfect. "No permanent marks either. Everything else is fine, but I do suggest we use something like a safeword."

"I can work with that," Sam hummed, licking his lips before he leaned over the table a little, his foot suddenly against Dean's leg, rubbing it up and down. "Don't worry, honey, soon enough that whole  _I'm the boss here_ shtick will be taken away from you. You'll be at my mercy, and you're gonna love it. I'm gonna make you love it," Dean swallowed hard again, loosening his tie a little. Damn, that guy was even better than he thought he was gonna be. "So, what do you think? Am I going to be to your liking?"

"You're going to be just perfect."


	4. The Office

_03/12/2006_

_Found him. He seems perfect. ~~Still has very pretty eyes.~~ ~~Long lashes too.~~ He doesn't seem to remember me. I'll do further research into that. Haven't deleted my account from the site yet, need to remember to do that because I don't need it anymore. I don't want anyone else, just him. We went on a date last night, he really had no idea who I was. He can't remember me. I need to be careful, he can't find out about me. I think this will be fun. _

*

Work was stressful. When he was younger, it had been something to get his mind off his lonely, boring personal life. When Dean was working he didn't have time to think of how he would come back every day to an empty house. But, once he had worked his way up to the top and started his own business, Smith&Co, he started to feel other kinds of stress that came with having his own company. His mind was basically  _never_ off his work. No matter what time it was or where he was, work never left his thoughts. There was always this nagging in the back of his head, reminding him that he had another stack of papers to go through, or unopened emails or letters, or that he needed to make sure that there was enough fucking ink in his printer. Even at night he could just wake up two or three times and have half a heart-attack when he thought of whatever things he still had left to do. And most of the time, he had already done those things. (There were even nightmares where he was drowning in paperwork.)

Dean knew that, obviously, this couldn't be healthy. Stress was a big cause for a lot of diseases, and also heart attacks. And, even though Dean tried to eat very healthy and exercise regularly, that didn't mean that stress couldn't still kill him. And that was pretty much the number one reason why he had made the decision to sign up for the site in the first place. He needed it to calm down, to de-stress. To let go of the worries of everything around him and just have a few moments of blissful nothingness where all he would be filled with was pleasure. He knew that this could help him, if he found the right person, of course.

The date with Sam had gone pretty good. The man was very interesting, and while he hadn't told much about himself, Dean still felt like he could trust him. They had talked about what they both needed for a little while, but in the end decided that it would probably be better to talk about everything when they weren't in a very public place. That way it wouldn't tarnish either of their reputations. Though, Dean wondered what Sam's reputation was. He had never seen him around town. And, of course it was possible to never meet someone from the same town, it was still a little weird. Dean knew many people through his business, most of the town were customers of his', and yet this man had never come up in his researches through the history of the company. And yes, Dean had done some quick research on him in the company's files. You could never be too sure. He didn't know the names of half of the people who worked for him.

Dean just hoped that Sam was good for the purpose Dean wanted him for. Sam needed to help him relax, to make him feel just _amazing_ , even if it was only for a little while. Dean would honestly give anything for 30 minutes of no panicking and no stress. It would feel like heaven to him, he was sure. He had given Sam his phone number, which would make it easier to communicate, and they had discussed another meeting between them. Sam called it a date, but, Dean thought that it would be more of a meeting. They were going to be discussing what they would be doing, so, it would be business rather than a fun date. He liked business, he disliked dates. 

"Mister Smith?" Dean looked up quickly when he heard his name being called, realizing that he had been staring at the last text message Sam had sent him. He put his phone away and straightened his jacket, mentioning for his assistant to speak up. "Uhm, I'm sorry for disturbing you, but there's a man at the front desk and he won't leave. He wants to talk to you. He only said that you would want to talk to him too. His name is Sam, or something, I- I think."

"Send him up." Dean gruffly said, making the young woman nod and quickly rush away. What did he even have assistants for anymore? This one was especially terrible. Dean could see that she was trying, but honestly that wasn't enough. He needed much more than just trying. And Sam? Oh, don't even get Dean started on him. How dare he come in at Dean's work and just... Waltz in and act like he was just allowed to be here? Sure, Dean had told him where he worked at, but he was not going to have this. No, this couldn't happen. This was his job, the place he worked at, and he needed to keep that separated from his... Well, whatever Sam was to him.

A few agonizing minutes passed, Dean's office was at the top floor, after all. Apparently important people needed to be at the top floor, for some reason. Dean didn't really see the point of it, but, you know, his reputation and all that. Whatever. The elevator dinged and a little while later Sam finally walked into his office. While Dean was dressed in a gorgeous Epstein & Klein suit with blue detailing, Sam was dressed in simple jeans and a flannel.  _Flannel._ Dean had to suppress a shudder. He did not like it when people looked cheap. Even when you weren't as rich as Dean was, because he was fucking rich, you could still look at least a little bit like you took care of yourself. And ripped jeans and flannel didn't say  _I'm here for business_ to Dean.

"Hey Dean."

"Don't. You came to my office? How dare you think that this is okay? This is my _office_ , Sam, the place I work at. What are they all going to think about me, huh? I can already hear the gossip downstairs. Not to mention, you're dressed like a lesbian," Dean snapped, getting up from his desk chair and buttoning his suit jacket before he walked over to his door, making sure it was closed. Sam just watched him with an amused expression on his face, not looking bothered at all by how annoyed Dean was at him. "This is not something that is funny, Sam, this is a serious matter. You are in my office."

"Yeah, I know," Sam chuckled, nodding his head, brushing some dark hair out of his pretty, manly face. Dean hated those cheekbones, they were amazing. Too amazing. And that little mole next to his nose? Feel the way you feel when you think of that mole? Yeah. Exactly. Dean felt just like that. "I just thought I would visit you, see where the big man works at. Where he gets all that confidence from, and all that money of course."

"Sam, listen to me. I need you to understand this, okay?  _You can't come to my office. Ever. Again._ " Dean slowly said the last part, making sure to put emphasis on the last two words. Sam needed to understand this correctly, because this could never happen again. Ugh, this whole thing was making Dean nervous. He loosened his tie, walking over to one of the many big windows that looked out over the entire town. Was it hot in here all of a sudden or was it just him?

"Sure, of course, I understand it. You look stressed," Sam hummed, following Dean over to the window, putting his hands on the shoulders of the nervous man. Dean flinched a little before frowning, looking at Sam's reflection. "Hey, relax. I'm just touching you, I'm not gonna kill you. Jesus, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack one of these days, man. If it's not the unhealthy food, it's the stress."

"Unhealthy- I do not eat unhealthily. My meals are thoroughly planned out by a very amazing dietitian, it's only the healthiest of foods, thank you very much," Dean snapped, watching as reflection-Sam raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. Dean wondered why. He knew he had some softness around his waist, but Sam couldn't have seen that with Dean in a suit. "And you're here to help me with the stress, are you not?"

"I guess I am, huh?"

"Then don't show up at my damn office again, because this isn't good for my heart," Dean sighed out, rubbing a hand over his face. Sam's hands on his shoulders actually felt pretty good, which annoyed Dean even more. He wasn't supposed to like Sam's presence, not now he was supposed to be working hard on his, well, his work. And fuck, he had so much left to do still. But now Sam was here, how was he going to focus on anything? "I have a lot of work to do. Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I wanted to see where you work at. The nice office and all. You have a very nice view, don't ya?" Reflection-Sam smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean's neck which made him shiver. "Also, I thought that you would maybe like to discuss everything that we're gonna do. You know, with our whole... Relaxing thing."

Dean just had it. This guy, this big, six feet tall guy made out of muscles just really came into his office to talk about sex? Dean had never hurt a fly in his life, but that was about to change. He whirled around, jabbing his finger into Sam's chest. 

"How- How dare you? You little- You got in here, in my private work-space, to talk about  _sexual intercourse_?" Dean asked in a hushed voice, realizing that he might need to make sure that Angelique, his assistant, couldn't listen in on the phone. 

"Yeah, basically," Sam nodded, not even looking the slightest bit bothered by Dean's finger still poking into his chest. And Dean could kind of feel why, because, holy shit, did that guy  _eat_ bricks or something? "Do you have toys or something already?"

"I can't believe you," Dean breathed out, moving to his desk to check if Angelique really couldn't listen in on this conversation, before he sat down in his desk chair again. He rubbed a hand over his face, loosening his tie even more so he could breathe. Sam followed him, moving to sit down on his desk after pushing some papers to the side. Honestly, by now, Dean didn't even bother to tell him off for that. He was too done with everything. "No, I do not have any toys. I haven't spent money on anything I don't use."

"But you're gonna use some now, with me," Sam purred out, looking completely comfortable sitting there while Dean was still feeling nervous. Or, at least, he thought it were nerves. He just had this heat in his tummy, where he just felt something fluttering. It was strange, Dean didn't enjoy it very much. "So, I was thinking we are gonna need some rope, handcuffs, gags--"

"Are you planning on killing me or something?" Dean asked, looking a little horrified with all the toys that Sam was talking about. He didn't even understand how these could be toys. When Dean thought about BDSM, he honestly just thought about the usage of maybe one of those small whips or something were good enough. 

"No, I'm not. But you have to trust me on this, okay? I know what I'm doing. That's something I want you to know, that you can trust me with this," Sam softly said, smiling gently at Dean. "I'm gonna make this good for both of us, and we're gonna make up a safe-word too, just so we can be sure that we're both consenting," Dean nodded, feeling a little less nervous now. "Anyways, I think I should just leave you a list with toys that you can see if you want to buy them or not. You're the one with the money, after all."

"You're leaving again?" Dean questioned, looking confused. Sam hadn't even been there for a long time, and Dean felt a little empty at the thought of him leaving again. He had no idea why, because he had never really felt things like this before. Dean didn't feel emotions a lot, and this was new territory for him. "You just got here."

"Mmh, this isn't a lot of fun when you're all stressed about all the work you still have left to do. I'm just gonna leave this here," Sam said, pausing to put an envelope down on Dean's desk, getting off it afterwards. "And you can text me or call me about what you think about the toys, huh? Sound good? You might need to look some up online. But, make sure there's no one watching you cause some of those are dirty. Now, have a nice day, Dean, and have fun working. And try not to get too dirty, honey." 

Sam leaned in, kissing Dean's cheek before straightening up and winking at the still seated man before leaving the office, closing the door behind him. Dean swallowed hard, just taking his tie off completely. He eyed the envelope nervously, biting his lip before he took it into his hands. He had no idea what kind of toys would be written on the paper in there, but, Dean knew it was going to be dirty. Well, at least Sam was successful at taking his mind off work...


	5. The List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just a filler, which is why it isn't very long.

_**Sqweel Go**. A small device with ten 'tongues' that rotate to constantly hit/lick you where you want it.  **Silicone Penis Cage and Ring Set**. Nice looking contraptions that offer longevity and wild textured sensations, for both of us.  **Shock therapy nipple clamps**. If your nipples are sensitive, we should try this ;)--_

Dean glanced down at his shirt, blinking a little as he moved one hand to rub a finger over one of his nipples. Was he sensitive? He had no idea. He thought that sex was mostly just kissing, swapping very much saliva (which was gross), and putting your dick in whatever hole the other person wanted you to put it in. There were a lot of different holes for sex, too, more than Dean had originally thought. Apparently, sex was not just that. There was so much more to it, and Dean was slightly confused about all of these toys and the things they could do with them. 

_Get some_ **_ropes and handcuffs and collars_ ** _and stuff like that, it'll be fun to tie you up._ **_A remote control vibrator._  ** _Just so I can have fun with you even while you're at work._ **_A whip_ ** _. And for a very thick cock;_ _Silicone power pump._ _You can blow it up while it's in you so it gets all nice and big. Add a_ _**shower locking foot rest** for when we have shower sex, want you to be comfortable. And some  **vibrators, buttplugs, dildos.** If you have any questions, text me. _

A shaky sigh left Dean's lips. Holy shit. There were so many toys in there, and he had heard of what, three of those? Maybe four? He knew what ropes and handcuffs and collars were, but those were for criminals and dogs, not for sex. Right? Dean wondered if maybe he should watch some cheesy porn, just to get himself a little more familiar with the whole kinky situations that he was getting himself into. He felt he needed to know at least something about it all, Dean did not want to embarrass himself while he was having sex with Sam.

God, he couldn't believe he was even  _thinking_ about having sex with the other man. This was so unlike him. Usually he was a normal, straight-forward, calm and collected guy. He  _never_ thought about sex in the normal day hours, that was just not business like. But now? He could not keep his mind off Sam and that godforsaken list. He had no idea how Sam was doing this to him, but there had to be something special about the man 'cause there was no way a normal man could be doing this to him.

He was so glad that he hadn't opened the envelope to read the letter while he was still at the office. That would have ended in a disaster, since he would have ended up like a  _complete_ disaster. God, he would have read through one sentence, and he would've been drooling over the idea of having Sam naked in front of him. Suddenly the collar didn't sound like a scary thing to him anymore. Imagining Sam with his hands wrapped around Dean's neck, holding him down, taking his breath away- Dean scraped his throat, adjusting his pants a little. Maybe he should stop thinking about it, and text Sam a confirmation that he was going to buy everything that was in the letter. He had money enough for it anyways. He was rich, and he had nothing else to spend his money on. Sure, he donated a lot to good causes, but there was still so much money that he had no use for. So, sex toys it was, huh? He hoped that Sam was going to be very pleased with him...

*

Sam looked at the house, raising one of his eyebrows. It was big,  _very_ big. He had just gone on a run, and decided that well, he could run past Dean's house, right? No harm in that. It wasn't like he was stalking him, or anything like that. The place was pretty much exactly the opposite of what Sam had expected. Of course, this Dean was the opposite of what Sam had expected him to be. It was a big house, a very big house. And Dean lived all on his own, so, what did he need all that space for? Dean didn't come off as someone who used up a lot of space for anything. He didn't have any hobbies, as far as Sam was concerned. 

It was very modern, and Sam guessed the inside looked just like it. Everything would fit perfectly together, if the style of Dean's office said anything. It had a nice front garden, with a fence around it to protect it from... Well, from whatever Dean didn't want to get in. Though, it wasn't a great fence, seeing as Sam could just jump over it. Sure, he was very athletic, but still. Dean should probably get an upgrade, maybe some actual spikes at the top and not things that looked like spikes but weren't actually spikey. 

Overall, Dean's house looked  _exactly_ the way Sam thought it would look. Sterile, calm, white, modern. He wasn't surprised at all. But, it did seem like Dean was a lot richer than Sam had originally thought him to be, which wasn't bad, of course. He had messaged Sam that he had ordered all of the toys that the younger male had put down into the list, and Sam was very pleased with him. Dean was much more submissive than he expected the older man to be. Which was surprising, but it was amazing. Sam liked it a lot.Sam had already expected this to be fun, but, it might be even more fun than he thought it was going to be... 


	6. The Darkness

_Dark. Black. Yellow._

_Dean couldn't breathe. The air was thick with the smell of rot. He didn't know what was rotting. Flesh. Blood. Death. It was disgusting, but familiar somehow. Dean pressed his hand over his mouth and nose, trying to muffle out the scent. He hated it, it made him sick. It made his stomach churn and his hands sweat. He had no idea where it was coming from, but he wasn't sure if he even wanted to know._

_Yellow. Yellow. Red._

_He had no idea where he was. It was terrifying,_ he  _was terrified. He wanted to be home, home, home. Where was home? If he didn't know where he was or how he got there, how could he ever go home? Dean could hardly see anything, all he could see was dark and dirt and red. "_ _Hello?" Dean's voice echoed down the hallways, and he walked further. There was no one, no one else but him. How could he even have gotten here? Dean didn't remember going here. Why would he ever go to a place like this? He should be home right now. Or maybe at his office. Maybe it was already day and he should be working? The last thing he remembered was that he went to bed, and now he was here. It just made no sense._

_Dark. Yellow. Death._

_Dean heard something behind him, making him twirl around, breathing in and out shakily. The rustling stopped, and all Dean could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears. Scared. Terrified. Alone. "H- Hello? This isn't funny anymore. I need to go home. I have a job, just... Just let me go, okay? I won't be mad. Just tell me where I am, and I'll leave." More sounds. Behind him, again. Dean whirled around, green eyes searching for anything familiar. He needed to know what those sounds were, where they were coming from. He was terrified. "Look, if you want money, you can get money. I don't care. You can have all my money, just let me go home."_

_He could only guess what the reason for him being here was. Dean knew he wouldn't get there on his own, so, someone had to have brought him there, right? Someone who wanted his money, because that was the only thing he had that was worth something. And he would gladly give all of his money away if that meant that he could go home again. Anything for going home. Dean just wanted to be home. He was tired, hot, scared, and sweaty. Home sounded like the perfect place to be right now._

_Yellow. Yellow. Yellow._

_Sulfur. That was the scent. Dean recognized it, he just didn't know how. He had never smelled it before, so how could he even recognize it? Sure, he had heard of sulfur, but he had never been close to it. This was all so confusing. Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe he was asleep? His head felt like it was going to burst apart, like he was going to explode and die. Some part of his body was telling him to run, and he instinctively reached into the waistband of his pants for a gun that he didn't have on him. This worried him even more. He had never handled a gun, he'd never even held a gun. Why was he reaching for one out of instinct? Something was wrong. And he needed to run._

_Yellow. Sulfur. Black. Death._

_Dean gasped when he was suddenly thrown into a wall, unable to move, a foot above the ground with his back pressed against the cold stone. What the hell was happening? Dean was even more terrified, and he grasped at the invisible hand around his throat that was choking him. Someone- something came walking towards him, and Dean tried to struggle even more. He couldn't, though, he could hardly even move. Everything started to fade out, darkness started to creep in as he started to lose consciousness, and all he could see was yellow eyes staring at him with a big, white grin underneath._

_Yellow. Sulfur. Yellow._

_"Hello, Dean. It's so nice to see you again. Let's go join your mother, huh?"_

*****

Dean shot up in bed, panting loudly, legs tangled in the sweat soaked silk sheets. He looked around, swallowing hard once he realized where he was. Home. He was home. Of course he was home, that was just a dream- a nightmare. A sick, weird, twisted nightmare. He had no idea why the hell he was having nightmares like that, what the hell caused him to be so scared in his dreams. 

Yellow. Dean had always hated yellow. He had no idea why, but he just did. He hated yellow, never wanted it anywhere around him. No yellow in his house, no thank you. Dean sighed, relaxing and rubbing a hand over his face. He glanced at his clock, licking his dry lips.  _5:30 am._ He had to get up soon anyways for work, so why not get up now? It wasn't like he could go back to sleep. No, he wasn't scared easily. But this? This was just weird. Maybe not so creepy, maybe just weird. Strange. He should lay off the white wine. Why would he even dream about someone wanting him to join his mother? It made absolutely no sense, because... Well, why would he join his mother? His mother was with his father in... 

Dean blinked, looking confused. His memories were vague. Kansas, right? Sure, it had been more than seven months since he had last talked to them, but that didn't mean he could just have forgotten all about his parents, right? Strange. No, he was sure that they lived in Kansas. This nice, wooden house where his parents and his sister still were. They were safe, happy, and mad at Dean. At least he assumed they were mad at him. Why else hadn't they even tried to contact him? Dean couldn't even really remember why they were mad at him in the first place. 

His legs wobbled a bit when he got up from the bed, making his way over to his bathroom. White, everything was clean and white. Just the way he liked it. The color made him feel calm, normal. Sometimes he had the sudden urge to paint symbols on the tiles, symbols that he didn't even know the meaning of. He found himself doodling them in his notebooks whenever he was distracted at work, sometimes when he was in meetings he stared down at the paper and saw so many circles and weird letter-type things. He didn't know where they came from, and with this nightmare thing now? Yeah, he was probably going insane. Dean turned on the water to the shower, turning to look into the mirror, eyes widening. His eyes were black. All the way black. 

Dean opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn't. The last thing he remembered was that he fell back, and everything else turned black too...

* 

Dean blinked, staring up at the white ceiling. A hand brushed over his forehead, making him turn a little to see who was stroking him. It was Sam. The familiar sunflower eyes of Sam, with the gorgeous long hair. His head was pounding, and he groaned as he slowly moved to sit up. "Sam? What're you doin' here? Why is my head hurting? What happened?" 

"Hey, hey, calm down. You hit your head pretty hard," Sam said, moving to help Dean lay back down again. Dean grunted, squeezing his eyes shut. His head hurt, and the light wasn't helping much. He had no idea what the hell happened, what he saw. It just had to have been some sort of weird hallucination, right? Was he going insane? Dean was so confused, so hurt, his head was hurting so bad. He felt like he could cry. "Hey, I'm here now. You didn't get injured very bad, just a bump, okay? I'm gonna take care of you, you just relax."

Dean nodded slowly, letting out a shaking sigh, trying to relax as he sank back into the bed. He was fine, everything was fine. He had nothing to worry about, everything was fine. Sam was there to take care of him, somehow. He had somehow gotten into Dean's house without the key, and Dean was definitely going to worry about that later. But not now, now his head was hurting too much, and all he wanted to do was sleep. So, he curled up in Sam's arms, relaxed, and let himself be taken over by darkness until all he could remember was how Sam smelled of sulfur too...


	7. The one with the bump on Dean's head

_07/12/2006_

_I think it was a nightmare. What else could it have been? It couldn't have been a flashback. How could it be a flashback? That should be impossible. I have to do more research into this, I can't let this all go wrong. I have done so much hard work to get this all right and if it has been for nothing... Well, I'm going to be very upset._

*

Dean had never really been one for intimacy. He had grown up with two loving parents, his mother giving him more than enough cuddles and hugs and his father played baseball with him in the backyard, so there was not really anything in his past that could explain this. If anything, he should have liked (or at least been able to appreciate) some good cuddling by now. But, no, anytime anyone touched him like that or in any other way, Dean just shuddered away. It was more like there was something deep inside of him that caused his distaste for human contact. He didn't understand why though, because he had no memories at all of anything bad happening to him that could explain it. It was just strange.

Sam's hand had been in his hair for a while now, stroking through the soft strands, being all gentle and careful. It somehow felt familiar to Dean, like this had happened before, but he also had the urge to pull away and tell Sam that they weren't girls. But even though in general Dean didn't very much enjoy to be touched, Sam stroking him and holding him still felt nice. He felt safe and loved and warm, feelings that he couldn't remember feeling before- not even when he was around his parents. His head still kind of hurt, though. Dean had almost no memory of the day before, which was concerning enough on its own, and the slight bump on his head that Sam's hand brushed over from time to time was only making Dean worry more about his health. He really didn't want to have to go to the hospital, because he didn't have the time. He had work, a lot of it too.

"What happened?" Dean asked, his voice rough. He slowly sat up, vision spinning for a second or two. Okay, his head still hurt just as much when he was seated as when he was laying down, but at least he knew his own name. That probably meant that he didn't have too much damage to his brain, and no lasting damage. Or he hoped so, at least. Look, he had an office to get to and a job to do, so, he couldn't be hurt. He didn't have time to be hurt.

"I don't know exactly since I wasn't there, but I think you might've slipped in the bathroom. You hit your head on the edge of the tub, but... All I can find is a bump on your head," Sam softly said, making sure that his voice wasn't too loud as to not hurt Dean. The latter was glad about that, because he had that splitting headache and all. He was sure that his head would explode if anyone would scream in his ears. "Which means you're pretty lucky, I think. You're lucky you left your front door open, too."

"I did?" Dean looked a little confused, turning his head over his shoulder to look at Sam. He was pretty sure he  _had_ actually locked the door, as he always did. There was no way he left it open, because he knew there were people out there who wanted to come inside to steal his stuff. Sure, he didn't have much, but he still had a huge TV and some expensive art. He had good taste, okay?

"Yeah, you did. You probably were just really tired," Sam softly said, moving to sit up as well and wrap one arm around the other male, gently rubbing over Dean's chest while he put his chin on Dean's shoulder. "But you're okay now, aren't you? You just have a little headache."

Sam's presence was soothing. Dean didn't really understand why, but there was some part of him that just felt like he knew Sam, like he had met him before or something. Yeah, sure, they had known each other for a few days now, but that didn't mean that Dean should feel so calm around him. Something was wrong, Dean was sure of it. He had to figure out what was going on, and who exactly Sam was because whenever he asked anything about him, Sam never actually gave much more than a vague answer. He was still a mystery to Dean.

"Just a little headache," Dean simply agreed, nodding his head a bit. "You're right... Hey, I think I should take some time off today instead of immediately going back to work. Thanks for taking care of me."

"No problem. I got worried when I rang the doorbell a couple times, but you didn't answer. So, I tried the door and it was open, that just made me even more worried," Sam whispered, kissing Dean's shoulder a few times. "You go and get some rest, okay? I gotta go do some business, but I'll call you later to check up on you. If you feel any pain or you get dizzy or anything that's not normal, call me. I'll take care of you."

Dean nodded, watching Sam pull his shoes on. He leaned into the kiss Sam pressed to his cheek before he left, and Dean didn't get up from the bed until he was sure that Sam had actually left the house. He then walked over to the front door, locking it. He was sure this time that he had locked it, just like he was sure he always did. There was no way he had forgotten to lock it, that was so unlike him.

He moved to his office afterwards, sitting down at his desk and opening up his laptop. He had to do some research. Sam had deleted his profile from the dating site they had met on, and Dean couldn't really remember any important information from it. Dean had no idea what he was getting himself into. Maybe Sam had a criminal record, maybe he even was a serial killer, anything was possible. But how was Dean even going to do research when he didn't even know Sam's last name? He knew virtually nothing about the other man, which was kind of nerve wracking.

This was all hopeless. Dean just had to try and keep on asking Sam about himself, because even though they were just supposed to have sex with each other, Dean still wanted to get to know enough things about Sam to know that he didn't have a dark past or was dangerous. Dean wanted to know more about Sam, he just  _had_ to. There was this itch inside of him, and he needed to scratch it by making sure that he wasn't getting it on with a criminal. And during all of that, he was going to have sex with Sam, too. He had no idea how to feel about that yet, but he was sure it was going to feel good. He just hoped to dear God that nothing bad was going to happen...


	8. The one with the feelings

The toys were different from what Dean had expected them to be. Maybe he should have done some more research, or well, any research at all. He thought he knew what they would be from the descriptions Sam had provided, but, apparently not. They were very much different, much more  _intimidating._ Dean was not sure how to feel about that. When the box arrived, Dean opened it up and unwrapped all the toys carefully. Honestly, now that he thought about it, he actually had no idea what he had been expecting, but it definitely had not been anything like this. They were much bigger and less soft looking. Dean had no idea anymore what Sam even wanted to do with them.

He couldn't help but feel excited, though. Even if they looked kind of scary to him, he still could not wait to try them out. Not on his own, because he had no idea what he had to do with them and he wasn't very keen on injuring himself down there (or anywhere else). So, he decided to message Sam that the toys had arrived, and Sam texted back that they should set up an appointment to try them out soon. It was kind of weird, because Dean was used to appointments being for business, but he guessed that this was kind of like business in a weird way. 

Dean might have wished that it was more. Some part of him deep inside was yearning for something. He wanted more, he wanted  _love._ Dean wasn't sure if he had ever wanted that before, but now he did. Or maybe yeah, maybe he had always wanted it. There was an emptiness inside of him, begging to be filled with something, with happiness perhaps. But he didn't feel like he could get there himself, he didn't think like he was able to make himself happy. No, he needed someone else for that. Dean had no idea why he hated himself so much, why he felt so sad inside. He had everything he had ever wanted right? Because all he had ever really wanted was to have this company. So, why wasn't he happy? You would be happy if you had everything you ever wanted, right?

Or, maybe that that was it. Maybe Dean had been superficial all this time, only wanting power and to be important. He should have been looking deeper into himself, he should have been accepting his feelings instead of ignoring them all this time, shouldn't he? Maybe it was his own fault that he was alone, unhappy, and without anyone he really cared about. Dean had probably ruined his own life, and he was only realizing that all now that he was standing in his living room with a horse-sized dildo in his hand. Which was probably not the desired way of finding out that you hated your life.

Dean sighed, putting the dildo down and running a hand over his face. Maybe he was just tired, or confused, or both all at once. He couldn't actually be thinking all of this, couldn't actually be believing all of this. Right? Why would he? He had everything he wanted and well, that's it. That was all that he needed, and he wasn't going to ever want more. Hopefully.

He just needed some coffee...

* 

Dean stared at his laptop. He was still working from home, it had only been two days since he had knocked himself out on the edge of the bathtub- presumably, Dean still wasn't sure what happened. He could kind of remember himself having black eyes in the reflection of his bathroom mirror, and he had heard someone (maybe himself?) scream before everything turned dark. Dean had no idea what that was about, he probably didn't even remember it correctly. There was just no way that he had black eyes for a little while, right? No way at all. Humans didn't have black eyes, and he was a human. So, mystery solved: it never even happened. Dean didn't have black eyes, his were green. Very green. Someone had once mentioned that they liked his eyes, but Dean couldn't really remember who had said it. He liked his eyes too, he guessed they were pretty. Even though he hadn't paid a lot of attention to them ever, he still liked them.

But hey, he thought he was pretty good looking in general. Nice eyes, nice lips, no flaws on his skin, soft hair. He was just lucky, Dean guessed. In his memories, his mother was pretty too. Blond hair, big eyes, sweet face. He could not really remember her looking any different, though, it felt like she had never gotten older. He couldn't remember her with wrinkles, or with grey hair. Which was weird, of course. He was twenty-nine now, his mother should have aged a lot since his first memories of her, right? That was how it worked. 

A lot of things in his life had been confusing him lately. Mostly his vague memories of everything. It was strange that he couldn't remember much of his childhood, and most of it kind of just seemed to be 'perfect little commercial like' memories. He was concerned about that, because Dean was pretty sure it wasn't normal. Of course he didn't expect himself to remember  _every single detail,_ but he couldn't even remember what he had done for his birthday last year. It was kind of like he hadn't even existed before he met Sam. 

The scariest part was that when he called the number that he had written down behind ' _mom &dad_ ' in his little address book that he always kept with him, the lady said that the number didn't exist. He hadn't really wanted to call his parents, but he thought that it would be nice since he hadn't spoken to them in years. He couldn't even remember the last time he had talked to them. So, when he finally pushed himself to pick up the phone and dial the number, it was a huge shock to find out that the number didn't even exist. This meant that either he had written it down wrong, or that his parents hated him enough to change their number without telling Dean. The first option seemed illogical to Dean, he  _never_ made mistakes like that, so why do it with his parents' number? And the second option was too weird, too out of character. Dean couldn't remember his parents actually hating him, he couldn't even remember ever fighting with them. If anything, his mother would've loved to talk to him again. So why would they delete their number? 

And then there were the nightmares. He kept having nightmares. They started when he met Sam, and hadn't stopped yet. He was even thinking of getting a therapist, just so maybe he could get back to a normal sleeping pattern. The nightmares were strange, he couldn't explain them. There were monsters he had never seen, and fire in most of them. Screaming, crying, people he didn't know but somehow recognized were begging for him to help them. He saw his mother on fire pretty much every night. He saw blood, weapons, a black car. Vampires, zombies, wolves, dead bodies. Water, drowning, death. So much death.

And Sam, Sam was in most of them, too. If everything else wasn't confusing enough, Sam being in them was fucking Dean up even more in his mind. It was always the same. They were always in a field, some kind of desolate field, with the black car, and Sam always said ' _yes_  ' to something or someone Dean couldn't see. Dean heard himself screaming, rushing towards Sam, before he woke up again. It didn't make any sense. He had never been in a situation like this, and the weirdest thing was that the dreams kept repeating themselves. 

A knock on the door snapped Dean out of his thoughts and he closed his laptop again. He had been doing some research about his dreams, and he had pulled up some articles on the vampires he kept seeing. They weren't just your normal Twilight-teenage-vampire kind of articles. No, these were the real deal, the actual lore. Not some sparkling little bitches, no, actual vampires. He figured that if he wanted to know what these dreams meant, he was going to have to do some research. That's why he had made a small Word document with a load of information about the monsters in his dreams. He felt like that was the only thing keeping him sane at this moment. That, and his job.

He got up and walked over to the door, opening it up to show off Sam. The male grinned, leaning in to kiss Dean softly. Dean was a little shocked at how sudden this was happening. Sure, they were going to have sex, but there was still some part of Dean that felt uncomfortable with this whole thing. He had no idea why, though, he was just as confused about it as he was about everything else that was going on in his life. Currently,  _nothing_ made sense to him. Absolutely nothing.

"Hey," Sam muttered against Dean's lips, kissing him again and nipping at Dean's bottom lip before pulling back, smiling at his... Sex buddy? Dean wasn't really sure what to call this. They weren't boyfriends or partners, so, probably just fuck buddies. "So, where are the toys?" Dean stepped back a little when Sam pushed past him, walking into the mansion.

"What, no hey how are you?" Dean asked, looking a little stunned that Sam would just walk in like that. He would never do that, he respected people's privacy. Which, clearly, Sam did not. Who were that guy's parents? "We're just going straight to the whole sex thing?"

"Ha, that sounds so weird coming from your mouth. And yes, we are. Of course we are," Sam happily answered, winking at Dean before making his way over to Dean's bedroom. Dean closed and locked the door before following Sam. They walked into the bedroom, the beautiful, perfectly white bedroom, and Sam went straight over to the box of toys that was neatly placed on the sheets. "Ooh, they look even better than I thought they would. Look at these-" Sam picked up a dildo and a pair of nipple clamps, a dark grin playing on his lips. "These are gonna be perfect for you, aren't they?"

"Uh, well, I guess," Dean softly said, walking over to Sam and helping him out of his coat. Sam should have taken his shoes off, too. Dean didn't want him tracking mud throughout the house, he'd have to clean it all up later and he was so not in the mood for that. "I'm not really sure what they're for, but... They look... Complicated."

"You're so innocent, aren't you?" Sam laughed, grinning softly. Dean didn't really know how to feel about Sam yet, he seemed kind of dark. He was definitely different from what he thought Sam was going to be, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing yet. "Get undressed, and get on the bed. We are going to have so much fun together." Dean did as Sam told him to, taking some time to fold his clothes and put them over the chair in the corner of his room. Sure, they might get freaky in a moment but that didn't mean he was going to allow his clothing to crease. He'd have to take it to the dry cleaners later and he was not interested in doing that. 

"And now?" Dean asked, sitting on the bed. He didn't really like sitting in the nude on his white sheets, but, he tried to get that all out of his head and instead focus on the way that Sam was staring at him like he was going to eat him. It was kind of unnerving and hot at the same time, if that was even possible. 

"Oh, just you wait," Sam smirked, getting some toys from the box. He flipped Dean over, pulled and pushed at him until Dean was on his knees with his ass up in the air, pretty hole all exposed. He was leaning with his cheek pressed in the mattress, arms tied behind his back. He could hardly move, especially when Sam kept tugging on the ropes at his wrists which made it feel like Dean's shoulders were going to be dislocated. "There we go. Big boss all tied up, huh?"

Dean let out a quiet whimper. He was hard, and it was horrible. Well, not actually horrible, but he hated himself for being in such a weak position and  _liking_ it so much. Dean was enjoying himself like this, more than he ever had enjoyed himself. It felt so good to not be in control, and Dean had no idea why. But he had no idea to think about it either. It was happening, this was happening, and Dean wasn't pushed far enough to use his safe-word, not by a long shot. This was too great, and when Sam suddenly pressed a finger inside of Dean's hole, he knew that it was only going to get better. 

Sam was good at this- amazing, actually. Dean had never felt like this before when he had sex. The finger inside of him was just touching the right place every single time, and waves of pleasure kept going through Dean's body. Fuck, it was great. Sam stretched him out with one, two, three fingers, until Dean was deemed stretched enough. Dean was a wreck by this time, leaking precum all over the sheets (which he was going to be mad about later), and his thighs were trembling. He wanted to move, and he was sure that his wrists were bruising with how much he tugged and pulled on the ropes. It hurt, the skin was burning, but it felt good. Sam made everything feel good. 

"There we go, just relax. Don't worry, Sammy is taking care of you," Sam muttered, and Dean did what he was told. He relaxed, and that was apparently the sign for Sam to just push his cock inside of Dean. Fuck. It felt like they were made for each other. Sam was curved in just the right way to press up against Dean's prostate nice and hard, and Dean nearly came from just that. He would've, if it hadn't been for Sam's hand on the base of his still leaking dick, squeezing just enough to cut off his orgasm. Again; it hurt, but it was amazing. Sam made it amazing, Sam made everything so amazing. "You're so helpless right now, don't have a- any control. So weak, so powerless."

Dean moaned loudly as Sam started pounding into him. It felt wrong, dirty, but so fucking good at the same time. The sex was amazing. Sam didn't let Dean get used to a pace, no, he changed from time to time and just fucked him relentlessly. It was so perfect, better than any of the sex Dean had ever had. Not that that was much, but it still said something about Sam, now didn't it? Dean was filled with so much pleasure, and Sam fucked him for at least ten minutes before he finally released the tight grip on Dean's dick. Dean couldn't hold back, and he came all over the sheets. After that all he remembered was Sam filling him up, and then slumping down onto the mattress before everything turned dark as he passed out from exhaustion and the best orgasm of his entire life...

*

The delicious scent of bacon was probably what woke Dean up. Dean didn't have bacon for breakfast. It was either coffee or a bland and boring kale smoothie. He had to watch his weight, after all. Dean slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his ass. Shit, Sam had been so rough. And yeah, he had been right about his wrists. They were all bruised. Well, that meant he was going to have to wear long sleeves to hide them. No one could see him looking that unprofessional, now could he? 

After getting a little bit more used to the pain in his ass, Dean moved to get some boxers, sweatpants, and a shirt on before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. The rooms downstairs were his office, the kitchen, and the living room, so it was easy to guess where Sam had to be. Sam was in the kitchen, only wearing boxers while he was making them breakfast. Dean found this pretty dangerous, because, well, what about the grease? 

Dean wanted to open up his mouth and talk to Sam, but something was telling him not to yet. He was drawn to his office, and he silently walked in, frowning when he saw his open laptop. He walked closer, using the mouse to make the screen light up again. After filling in his password, Dean went to his documents, pulling up the Word document with all the research he had done in it- but everything was gone. Dean frowned deeply, trying to get it back, but it was like it had never even existed at all. He was frantically searching for the document, confused as to how the hell it had suddenly disappeared. How could it have just disappeared? Dean then jumped up when Sam's voice suddenly spoke up behind him, making Dean turn around quickly.

"Good morning," Sam happily said with a big, innocent, sweet smile on his face. "I hope you're hungry, I made breakfast." Dean swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He wasn't, but he felt like he couldn't say so. All he felt was that something was very, very wrong...

 


	9. The Filler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a filler, because I don't have much time to write right now but I still wanted to update something. Sorry for that!

There was something very, very wrong. Dean couldn't stop thinking about it. He had tried and tried, but he couldn't get his Word document back. It was gone forever. All of his research, everything he had spent so much time on, it was all gone. But is hadn't just disappeared, because documents don't delete themselves. No, someone had to have done that, and the only person who could have done it, was Sam. There was no one else there at that moment, only Dean. And Dean wouldn't just delete something he thought was important, he wasn't like that. Besides, who would delete something that was important? Yeah, no one. Dean was sure that he was going to need it again, all the research he had spent so many of his free time on was just gone now and he had no idea how he was going to get any of it back without starting from the beginning. Sure, he still remembered some things, but he liked to make sure that he was remembering the right things. 

 _Cutting heads off, silver bullets, holy water._ Dean just didn't understand it. Why would Sam delete something like this? He would have had to turn on Dean's laptop and snooped around on it, he would have somehow needed to know what he was looking for. How could he have known that? There was just so much confusing stuff going on, and the only thing that kept Dean sane was now gone. 

Dean wasn't used to feeling this out of control. He stroked a hand over his face, staring at his laptop. He was back at work again, feeling well enough physically to be back at his office, but mentally? Yeah, he had no idea how he was doing mentally. Not very good, that's what he did know. It was like there was something inside of him trying to climb out, trying to claw its way to the top to whisper in Dean's ear. Dean knew that sounded weird and probably very crazy, but he knew that there was more going on than he could understand right now. As he was thinking more and more about it, he realized that  _nothing_ in his life had ever made any sense. 

He couldn't even remember his own mother correctly. at first when he thought of her, he knew only Ellen, but after thinking more flashes of blond hair and bright eyes and  _MaryMaryMary_ came through. All of it just made Dean want to cry. Nothing made sense anymore, absolutely nothing. He couldn't remember his family-  _was it a brother or a sister?_ \- or what happened when he was young. He kept remembering that black car, and he had tried to find it online, but no luck yet. Dean didn't know much about cars, so he didn't even know where to start. Black and shiny, that counted for most washed black versions of any car. Another thing that kept popping up in his head was the word impala, which didn't make sense 'cause why would he be thinking of the animal? Like he had mentioned a few times before: nothing made sense anymore.

Dean was just so tired of everything. He kept having so many nightmares about so much weird shit, he guessed they were all the creepy supernatural beings he had done research on. But why did he see himself in motel rooms and the car and abandoned buildings with guns and other weapons? It didn't make sense, not at all, because the dreams were just  _so_ detailed. Too detailed for Dean to just be making them up. But when Dean tried to think about himself in those situations, it was just... Darkness. Like there was some wall preventing him from actually thinking about it.

He needed to figure what was going on, because he was going crazy. Dean didn't know if he was going to like what he was going to figure out, but, it needed to be done. Even if it was going to be some crazy shit, he bet that anything was going to be better than not knowing. Because, again, Dean hated being out of control. It was terrifying, really.

A plan was needed to figure this thing out. He needed to not just... Go at it, but he needed to make a plan because this wasn't just something he could do just like that. He was going to figure something out, and make sure that nothing bad was going to happen. No, he was going to figure out what was going on, no matter who or what would try to stop him. Sooner or later, Dean was going to know  _exactly_ what was going on with himself, and with Sam...


	10. The one with the truth

Dean had almost hired a private investigator. How was he ever going to figure out anything about himself or Sam all on his own? In hindsight a private investigator was a really amazing idea, though. Way better than the thing Dean actually did. He found himself with Sam tied up in a chair in his basement after he had knocked him out. Definitely not the best idea he ever had, but yeah, he had been panicking a lot. This whole thing had been driving him crazy enough to do something like this. Obviously he would never do this if he had been completely sane, he was a fucking business man not a Goddamn criminal. So, the fact that Sam was currently passed out and tied up and  _possibly dead_ was really fucking freaking Dean out like he had never been freaked out before. He really should have never done this, but he couldn't exactly go back anymore. How could he ever explain the weird scream he let out right before he hit Sam over the head with a baseball bat? He didn't even know he had a baseball bat, he didn't even play baseball.

This was not good, this was not good at all. Dean had been panicking before when he had no idea what to do, but this was even worse. He had no idea what to do and now he had  _Sam tied up in his basement_ did I tell you that before? He was never going to be able to explain this. What was he even going to say? 'Oh yeah, I just thought you might know something about supernatural creatures and my dreams and my growing paranoia and that's why I knocked you out and tied you up'. Yeah, no, that's definitely not really something that would make this better. 'Oops, mistake?'. There was no way in hell that Sam would believe that this was a mistake. Probably because they both were naked when Dean knocked Sam out. Which was because they just had sex. Which only made Dean realize that he really was in trouble if he was wrong about this.

Psych ward? Meet Dean Smith, crazy paranoid bastard.

Maybe that private investigator idea hadn't been so bad after all, huh? It at least was a little less crazy and easier to explain than this whole basement thing. Oh God, Dean was so fucked. He had no idea what to even do anymore, he was so fucking scared. And he wasn't even the one who was tied up. Yeah, of course he could just untie Sam and put him in bed, but... That would still not explain the fact that Dean had been naked and screaming right after sex before knocking him out. 

There was no way he was ever going to get out of this without Sam telling the cops about this, so he might as well go through with this. He was going to just tell Sam what he was thinking, and get the truth out. Or, which was probably going to happen, he was only going to end up being more confused and his company was going to fall apart. Maybe he should have thought about this for a little longer, huh?

"Dean?" 

Dean nearly jumped seven feet when he suddenly heard the soft voice coming from behind him. He had been pacing back and forth, basically walking enough to have made dents in the concrete floor. Sam was awake, finally, and Dean was just really glad that he hadn't murdered him. That had also been an option, and Dean hadn't even wanted to  _think_ about that. God, if he killed Sam that would have been even worse.

"Dean, what i- is going on? Why am I tied up?"

"Right, uhm, so... This isn't what it looks like," Dean started, obviously stumbling over his words, nervous as hell. God, what the hell was he going to do? Dean didn't even know how to explain what he wanted to explain. Monsters, angels, supernatural beings. Yeah, fuck, there was no way in hell this was going to go well. "I mean, I guess it is what it looks like. You're tied up, that's exactly what it is, isn't it? Yeah, uhm right..."

"Dean," Sam started, interrupting Dean's mental breakdown. Which he was kind of glad about, he was sure he would have a panic attack if he'd have gone on. "Tell me what's going on, now."

"R- Right, uhm, well... I...," Dean paused, slightly wondering why Sam wasn't really freaking out all that much. Honestly, if this had been Dean tied up he would be screaming in fear. Well, maybe he wouldn't be screaming but he  _would_ most definitely be scared out of his mind. But Sam didn't really even seem the least bothered by his position. He was just kind of sitting there, ordering Dean to explain what was happening. Maybe Dean just wasn't really all that threatening? That was probably it. "I uh, yeah, I knocked you out and tied you up. It's just... I've been very confused for a while now, and it's gotta do with you. And with me. With the both of us, I guess. Mostly with you, though. Because I don't get why I keep dreaming of you-"

"Why the hell am I tied up, Dean? If this is a sex thing, you could've just asked me instead of knocking me out, you know? And if it's not a sex thing, I'm calling the cops."

"Shut up, just shut up, Sam," Dean snapped, suddenly just done with it. He didn't want this anymore, he didn't want to be confused and uncertain anymore. He didn't want to feel like he was going crazy anymore. He was just done with it, so fucking done. "Something is going on, something with supernatural beings and you lying to me and hiding things from me. I- I don't know what it is, but I'm not me. I'm not who I am. I- I'm not who I am supposed to be, I know it sounds crazy but you have something to do with it. You're hiding things from me, and you're gonna tell me what's going on."

Sam's expression changed, and not in the way Dean thought it would. It went from kind of blank and nervous to impressed and then to this dark, dark,  _dark_ look. Dean swallowed hard, watching as Sam let out a soft chuckle that turned into a loud laugh. One that had Sam throwing back his head, bellowing laughter filling up the cold basement. Dean was just about to just run away when Sam suddenly stopped laughing. The silence really was even scarier than the laughter, it was somehow choking Dean. He felt alone and crowded at the same time, if that was even possible. He didn't even feel like he could speak.

"Well, well, well," Sam slowly said, starting to grin while his face just became dark and terrifying. This was not something that Dean liked to see  _at all._ "I guess I underestimated you, huh? I don't know why I did, big brother was always a lot smarter than he let out to be. Well... I guess my plan failed, hmm? Congratulations, Dean, you just outwitted the devil." Alright, okay, well. Maybe Dean  _shouldn't_ have tried to get the truth out of Sam...


	11. The one before the beginning

_A few weeks earlier_

They were in a church, of all places. Sam thought it was pretty ironic, becoming the king of Hell in such a holy place. Churches were the house of God, now weren't they? And the king of Hell wasn't and wouldn't exactly be buddy buddy with the holiest of holy. In fact, Sam was sure that he would be the number one person God would want to get rid of. Even if they knew God and knew who he was and how he acted, God wouldn't want to have someone like Sam on earth. Or in earth. Or wherever Hell was. Sam wasn't really sure where exactly it was, he hadn't really ever thought about it, he just assumed that it was in the middle of the earth. The fiery pits of Hell. He hadn't decided yet if he was excited for that or not.

Sam had been here for a few hours, getting things ready for the ritual, making sure to be quick but precise. Quick because he had to have everything done before Dean came here and decided to ruin everything. Sam couldn't have that, because then he wouldn't be able to be the king of Hell, and his plan would just be destroyed. Everything would fall apart, and after Dean would have inevitably forgiven him, they would go back to their hunting selves. Sam didn't want that. Not this time. He had turned down being possessed by Lucifer, but this? This was different. This would be  _him_ in Hell, him at the position of power. Not his body with some evil being inside of him. It would be all him, so he could still make decisions that wouldn't hurt too many people.

But, why would he do this if he didn't want to hurt people, you ask? Well, because this was the only way he was ever going to get something he had wanted his entire life. He had tried to find other ways, really, he had. But there were none. He had looked through every book he could get his hands on, he had tried to find a spell, a curse, a demon to make a deal with but nothing worked and no demon accepted his soul in return for his biggest wish to come true. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

It wasn't like Sam would just go all evil if he would be the king of Hell. He was born and raised a hunter, he knew how to not be evil. He knew right from wrong, wrong from right. He knew what to do and what not to do. Sam wasn't going to try to fight God or any angels- actually, he could work together with them and get rid of all evil in the world. Now that he was thinking about it, becoming evil actually wouldn't be such a bad idea. Well, not becoming evil, but becoming the king of all that was bad. And, as an added bonus: all demons listened and obeyed the king. He would be the king, thus the demons would listen to him. They wouldn't dare disobey him, and that meant that Sam would just be able to make them do good things. Or kill them, whatever worked better.

But demons and all that was evil wasn't his main priority, nothing like that was his actual reason. No, his real reason was something different, something more human, something more  _Dean._ Which was hilarious, of course, because wasn't Dean the reason for literally everything he did? Yeah, he was. And this was just like any of those other times. But be honest. If this was the only way you could get something you really wanted, wouldn't you do it? Sam understood that it might not be the smartest idea in the world, but, he wasn't going to become evil. Never. No, all he was going to do was get what he wanted. And once he had what he wanted... Well, let's just say everything would be perfect by then.

All Sam needed to do was finish the ritual and say yes to being king. Maybe Dean was going to hate him at first for doing this, but he would see in the end that this was for his own good. For both of them, actually. And Dean was going to see that too, eventually. Even if he didn't, Sam was going to  _make_ him see. In the end, they were going to be happy because this was the right thing for them and their relationship. Their  _brotherly_ relationship which soon would transform into a... Well, more than brotherly relationship. Because that was what Sam wanted, that was  _all_ Sam had ever wanted. It was all he needed, too. All he could ever want and need. If he finally got Dean, everything would be perfect.

Sam had always been in love with Dean. Ever since he could remember feeling emotions, all he felt was love towards his big brother. Never any anger, never any hate, never anything but love. Dean was just perfect in Sam's eyes, perfect in every way. His outside, his inside, it was just better than perfect. Sometimes Sam felt so much love for his brother that it just made him want to cry.

Speaking of the devil- Sam didn't turn around when he heard someone walk into the church, he knew those footsteps way too well. This was Dean, and he had probably come to stop his little baby brother from going through with this. Sam didn't really blame him from doing so, Dean just didn't understand why Sam was doing this, that this was the best for both of them. This was the best for them, and in the end would make them both happy.

"Sam, you can't be serious," Dean spoke up softly, making Sam sigh. Of course, his brother didn't think he could do this. Dean never believed in him, always thought that he was right and knew better- and usually that was true, but not this time. No, this time Sam knew better. This time, Dean just had to listen to Sam and let him do this. This was the only way they could ever be together. "You have to think this through Sam, be the king of Hell? You can't do that. You don't know what you're doing."

"What makes you think that?" Sam asked, moving to turn around to look at his big brother, cocking his head to the side. "Because I do know what I'm doing, I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm doing this for us, De. I won't turn evil, I won't do bad things, all I'm going to do is bring us two together. We will be happy together, Dean, I promise. I love you... You can either support me, and let me do this, or try and stop me."

Dean's eyes darkened a little and rushed over to Sam, something that made Sam sigh before he flicked his wrist, throwing Dean into the wall and knocking him out. He had been drinking demon blood for weeks now, it was part of the ritual. And if Dean was going to try and stop Sam, then fine, maybe he  _should_ go evil. Because if he couldn't have Dean, well, he was just going to  _take_ him. One way or another, he was going to get what he wanted, he was going to get his Dean...

 


	12. The one with the explanation

Dean's mind was spinning. He couldn't believe what was happening, he couldn't believe what already had happened to him. Everything had come back to him now, and his brain was running rampant with the memories that kept hitting him in the face like bricks. He didn't understand any of them, though. Not yet, at least. Dean had a feeling that Sam would explain everything to him soon. It was all wrong, that was what Dean did know. Nothing was the way it should be, the way he thought it should be. He wasn't Dean Smith, owner of Smith&Co. He was Dean Winchester, hunter and big brother. Son of Mary and John, who were dead.

"It's all coming back now, isn't it?"

Sam's teasing voice wasn't helping. It was not grounding Dean like it always had done before all of this. No, this time it made Dean feel scared, afraid of his own little brother who had apparently done some very bad things. And why had he done bad things? Dean didn't understand it. What was the purpose of it all? What did Sam want from him, or from Dean Smith? God, Dean's head hurt so much. There was just too much going on in his mind, and he felt like he was going to explode. Could that happen? Dean really hoped not.

"Does it scare you, Dean?"

He wanted to tell Sam to shut up, to close that stupid mouth and not speak in that stupidly smug voice of him. He was probably smiling all smugly too, but Dean couldn't move to see for himself. It was like he was frozen. Maybe it was because of the fear he felt, maybe because of the shock of finding out that nothing in the past few months had been real, or maybe Sam was using his powers on him to keep Dean in place.  _His powers. Demon powers. Hell. King of hell._

"It does, doesn't it? Oh, I have managed to scare my big brother. Isn't that cute? I never thought that was even possible."

Sam had changed their reality. Or well,  _Dean's_ reality. He had to be very powerful to be able to do that, right? Very, very powerful. And that was something bad, because if Sam could alter reality and make Dean believe that he was someone else with a different identity, how could Dean ever even stop him? Could Sam even be stopped? Because he  _had_ to be stopped, right? There was no way Dean could just let him be evil forever. And it wasn't like Sam wanted to be evil forever.

"This isn't you," Dean finally managed to get out, voice rough like he had been swallowing sandpaper. He felt like he was talking to someone else, to someone he didn't know, not to his sweet and innocent baby brother who had never wanted to hurt a fly. Where did that Sam go? What had Dean done wrong to get Sam to want to be like this? Dad had been right: he should have protected Sam at all times and made sure to never let him out of his sight. But no, somewhere he had gone wrong. Somewhere along the road Dean had fucked up and now Sam was fucked up. This was all Dean's fault, wasn't it? Why was he even questioning that? Of course it was, it always was. "Sam, you... We can fix this, I promise-"

"Who says I want to be fixed, Dean? Because there isn't anything to be fixed," Sam slowly walked closer, this dark look in his eyes. He didn't even seem to be human anymore, no, his eyes were filled with pure evil. Sam was pure evil. And that scared Dean more than anything. How could he fix something that was more evil than anything he had ever encountered before? How could he fix something that didn't want to be fixed? "This is who I am, Dean, this is who I've always wanted to be. This is me."

 Dean shook his head, swallowing away some bile when he suddenly realized what else had happened. How could he have forgotten about that? Sam and he had... They had... Shared a bed. That was probably not the correct way of putting it, though. No, Dean had to face it. They had sex with each other. Which was probably something that should make him feel sick. It didn't, though, and Dean was really concerned about that. Why didn't he feel disgusted? Maybe Sam was still fucking around with his head? Dean really hoped he was, because he didn't think he could handle the other option: him  _liking_ it.

"You know, growing up, I felt things that I knew I shouldn't feel. But I thought it was a phase, 'cause teenagers can find anything and anyone attractive, right? But, it didn't leave. So, I did. I left for Stanford in the hopes of forgetting all about you, but I couldn't," Sam sighed, licking his teeth before he smirked a little. "When you got me from Stanford, I got so sick of seeing you with all those whores who thought they were worthy enough of you. I am the only one who can treat you the way you should be treated, Dean. I am the only one who can treat you the way you should be treated, Dean, I am the only one who can give you what you deserve. You just couldn't see it yet. I confessed my feelings to you one day when you were drunk. Do you remember what you did, Dean?"

Dean shook his head, not at all remembering what Sam was talking about. Had Sam really told him about his feelings? From the way Sam was talking, Dean was guessing his reaction hadn't been very nice. Which Dean could also understand because what would you do when your brother told you he was in love with you? Yeah, exactly, you would freak out too. But maybe if Dean hadn't, then Sam wouldn't have been evil now.  _It was all Dean's fault._

"You  _laughed_ at me, Dean, and you told me you would never feel the same," Sam whispered, stepping even closer to Dean. He still couldn't move, and fear was slowly climbing up his throat. Was Sam going to kill him? He couldn't do that, right? Not if he was in love. Sam would never hurt him, right? Dean didn't think so, but Dean didn't think he would ever alter his reality either. And yet, he had done that. Dean Smith, having sex with Sam Wesson. Or was it Dean Winchester having sex with Sam Winchester?  _He was so_   _fucked._ "So, I decided that I would just have to make you see that we belong together. But then those fucking angels tried to swoop in, so I had to protect you. That's why I did this, De, I did this all to protect you."

 _De._ Sam always called him that. It was this cute little nickname that Sam started calling him because Dean's whole name was just too much work, and Dean liked it. But not out of this guy's mouth, no, because this guy wasn't Sam. This wasn't Sam. This was not his Sam. And Dean didn't want this thing to be calling him De. Dean hated this, all of it. This was his little brother, his innocent little brother, and Dean could remember vividly how it felt to have Sam's cock in his ass. Dean had no idea what to think.

"So, now that you've ruined my plan, I guess I just have to use plan B, hmm? But this time, I'll make sure you can't get away from me." Sam grinned wide, and Dean wished he could move as Sam stepped in front of him, pressing his fingers to Dean's forehead and making everything go black again...

 


	13. The one with the fire

The first thing Dean noticed when he woke up was that it was hot, really hot. Not a heat that he was used to, not the kind of heat you would feel on a nice summer day where you could sit outside in the sun and get nice and tan (with sunscreen, of course). No, it was really hot. The kind of heat where Dean felt like he couldn't breathe, like it was in his lungs, like it was burning his body from the inside out. The kind of heat that made his skin crawl, that caused him to have goosebumps, that made sweat drip down his entire body, even the places where he didn't know he could sweat from. 

Dean had never liked the feeling of not being able to breathe. It was terrifying, and it always reminded him of what had been the worst moment in his entire life. It had been training, at least that's what his father had told him, and Dean never once questioned John. Usually Dean was okay with training, it was always something with weapons or fighting, and Dean didn't mind it because he was good at it. But this one time? Yeah, no weapons involved. Dean was forced into a coffin and buried alive. Nothing in his life could compare to the fear he had felt at that moment. John had told him to claw his way out of there, because he needed to be able to get out of any situation, even this one. But Dean couldn't breathe, and this heat reminded him of that moment.

John had never buried Sam alive, though.

When Dean opened his eyes, he frowned in confusion. He couldn't remember ever being in a motel with a ceiling like this, with the black paint and the curves and swirls and the little faces, it was way too fancy. Dean squeezed his eyes shut again, letting out a soft grunt. Fuck, he really had partied too hard, hadn't he? He couldn't even remember what the hell had happened the day before. With another grunt, Dean raised his arm to rub at his head- or well, he would have if he could do so. But he couldn't, because his arm wouldn't move. Nor would his other arm. Or either one of his legs. Dean's eyes shot back open, and he struggled to move as the memories of the day before ran through his head.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. This wasn't good, this wasn't good at all. He was tied to a bed, a very comfortable bed with- were those silk sheets? And why was he naked? Dean couldn't remember getting naked. All he could remember was Sam acting weird, going all dark and then doing that whole weird forehead thing to make Dean black out again. Dean really hated all those angels who did that. Well, his brother wasn't really an angel, was he? Demon? Dean wasn't sure. If he was a demon, then he could just exorcise him, right?

Dean kept tugging on the ropes, trying to get out. Obviously Sam would be good at tying someone up and using knots no monster would be able to get out of, but Dean was even better at getting out of things. So why was he unable to move still? He hadn't just gotten worse at this whole thing, now had he? Maybe Sam was using magic on him? Something to make him weak, or something to make Sam himself stronger? Dean's mind was racing with the possibilities, none of which were good. Sam had gone dark-side, and there was nothing good in him left, which was really hard for Dean to believe.

He tried not to panic too much when the door opened, it was probably just Sam. But the heat, the tightness of the bonds, it was all too terrifying to him. He could still remember so well what it was like to be buried alive.  _Dirt. Dirt in his mouth. In his nose. In his eyes. In his ears. Dirt everywhere. He had cried and begged his father to let him out, clawed at the top of the coffin until his fingers were bleeding, but nothing happened._

"Good morning, Dean," Sam's purring voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes again, looking at his once so sweet little brother. The man was dressed in a black suit, which Dean almost snorted at. Almost, but he was too scared to actually do so. "I'm so glad you're awake again. You've been out of it for a few days, huh? I really started to worry about you. I haven't had the powers for that long, well, I have but they didn't use to be this... Strong. I was afraid I might have killed you."

That was something Dean snorted at. He was laying here, nude, after having been Dean Smith for God knows how long, and now he was tied to a fucking bed in what he was just going to assume was some sort of weird hotel. Or a sex dungeon. Dean would not be surprised anymore if his baby brother had a sex dungeon. Not that he wanted Sam to have a sex dungeon. Actually, why was he naked? Sam really was fucked up in the head, wasn't he? This was not good at all. Dean hadn't been scared often, but he kind of was now. He didn't want to be, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let Sam know that he was scared.

"Are you hungry?" 

Dean blinked a little at the plate Sam offered. First off, he was tied up. How was he going to eat? Second off, Sam was apparently the king of hell. Why the fuck would he trust the guy with anything he wanted to put into Dean. "No." Maybe he could starve himself, maybe that would eventually make Sam have to let him go.

"Alright," Sam nodded, seemingly not at all bothered by the fact that Dean didn't want to eat. "You're sweating, are you okay?"

"If you haven't noticed, it's really hot in here. I mean, I know I'm naked 'cause you're apparently a sick pervert, but damn, I feel like I'm in an oven. Could you at least turn the AC on or something? Or does this place not have one?" Sam started laughing at Dean's words, making Dean frown deeply. What the fucking hell was wrong with this guy? "What? What's going on?"

"You're so cute, Dean, really. Everyone always tells you that you're so smart but you're not. Do you really think it's hot in here because the AC is broken?" Sam asked, making Dean just stare at him in confusion. He really didn't understand what was going on. Sam leaned in closer, grinning darkly, looking like he was about to share a very dirty secret. Dean had to do everything in his might not to flinch away. "I'm the king of hell, Dean-o.  _We are in Hell._ "

Yeah, and that made Dean black out, again...

*

The next time Dean woke up, it wasn't as hot anymore. He was still tied up though, and still naked, which made him feel very uncomfortable. If Sam somehow changed the temperature, Dean was pretty grateful. At least this meant that he didn't feel like he was burning anymore, or that he was buried alive. 

"I'll untie you when I can be sure that you'll be a good boy, a good little soldier like you always were for dad," Dean winced, closing his eyes. He hated this. He hated talking about dad. John was dead, and he didn't want to think about him anymore. "But now you can be a good boy for me, mmh? My good De."

"Shut the fuck up." Dean muttered, looking at Sam who raised an eyebrow. "You're disgusting, Sam. No matter what you'll do, I'll never like you the way you like me. You disgust me."

The smirk that crept up on Sam's was nothing good. It was so terrifying, so dark, and it sent shivers down Dean's spine. "Oh, don't worry, De. Soon enough you'll be begging for me to have you."

Sam left the room after that, leaving Dean alone again. But even though Sam wasn't there anymore, Dean still felt his presence. His terrifying presence that left Dean wanting to cry. He had to get out of here, and he had to do so soon...


	14. The one with evil Sammy

Have you ever wished you were somewhere else? 

You probably have, because hasn't everyone? Maybe you were at a party you didn't like, or at school in your least favorite class with your least favorite teacher, or at that job you just really don't like. It's a pretty normal human emotion to dislike certain situations that you're in, so there was nothing special about Dean disliking what was happening to him at the moment. What  _was_ special was the situation he was in, because he was pretty sure that he was one of the very first human beings to ever be in such a situation. Not that he felt honored by that or anything, because he had rather never been here at all. 

Him disliking the very dramatic interior designing of the bedroom he was in was just personal preferences. It looked like he was in a medieval castle, for God's sake. Dean never thought Sam to be one for those heavy burgundy or wine red colored curtains, the ones that hung to the floor and probably were disgusting at the bottom, the ones that you had to tie down with rope to keep them open. The oldest Winchester was very disappointed that this was what his brother had picked for the bedroom he was forced to stay in. I mean, if he wanted to do sexy things, then at least pick a sexy surrounding, right? But no, this was not at all sexy. This was some goddamn Vladimir the vampire shit. 

But the terrible decorating of the room wasn't the only thing that made Dean very uncomfortable all the time. Dean was a hunter, that's something you all already knew. Being a hunter means very many different things, and most of them aren't very great. You're constantly paranoid, you don't trust anyone or anything, and you're always looking for the fastest way out of every room and every situation. Dean did that as well, had been doing so for the last few hours, long enough for his eyes to start hurting. He had pulled and tugged on the chains that were holding him place since the moment he figured out he was chained down, and he was very sure that by now his skin was bruised as hell. He didn't care though, because he still hadn't been able to get out of his restraints. It didn't make sense to him. He was Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire. He had gotten out of anything he'd been in before, but not this time. Sam must have done something to make his big brother unable to break out, and it was scaring Dean. 

And even if he  _had_ been able to get out, Dean didn't know where to go. There weren't any windows, and there was only one door. And Dean had no idea where that damned door even lead to. For all Dean knew, it could literally be a pit of fire. Like, and actual pool filled with fire of damnation. And Dean would just fall in it and burn to death, which wasn't an option to him. There were only a few things Dean could do, two to be exact: give up, or make Sam trust him.

Usually Dean wasn't really one for giving up. In his entire life, Dean had never once done it. Hell, the word didn't even exist in his dictionary. But, he was definitely considering writing it down in there because the other option? Making Sam trust him? Yeah, no thank you. Very nice, but no. Maybe making his little brother trust him again didn't sound like a bad thing to you, but it was, because the way he would have to behave to make Sam trust him was not something he ever imagined doing. Not to his sweet and innocent baby brother, at least.

But then again, Sam wasn't really all that sweet and innocent anymore, huh? No, he was the king of hell now. If Dean  _would_ give up, he was going to be used for things he didn't want to think of anyways. But if he tried to make Sam trust him, he would at least stay sane enough to get out one day. So, Dean made up his mind. Even if he hated it, he had to make Sam trust him if he ever wanted to get out. No matter how hard it was going to be... 

 

*

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," Dean whined a little, not wanting to wake up. He was tired, and wanted to sleep for so much longer, maybe seven hours or something. But, no, there was a hand on his back that slowly, very slowly, moved down to regions that were forbidden for anyone. So, his eyes quickly opened and he flinched away, turning around to look at his brother who was just smiling sweetly. Sure, okay, maybe this didn't really fit the plan of making Sam trust him, but hey, why would he just suddenly immediately like Sam when he didn't before. That would be suspicious, right? "Oh, don't look at me like I just put a frog up your ass."

"What do you want?" Dean asked, yawning softly. He was still sleepy, but wary. His hunter instincts were telling him to keep an eye on Sam, or both eyes. There was a part of him that was just terrified, scared, and he needed to make sure Sam wasn't using his powers on him. He watched as Sam reached out, loosening the chains enough for Dean to be able to sit up and move his arms around.

"I made you breakfast. Look, you really have to eat. I used a little bit of my powers on you so you didn't starve to death, but I don't want to keep on using my powers on you," Sam softly said, putting down a plate of delicious looking food down in front of Dean. It was breakfast food without any weird looking stuff in there, no poisonous looking bacon or eggs. No, it all looked completely normal. And Dean was very fucking hungry, so he reached out before he even really knew what he was doing and started shoveling eggs into his mouth. "See? It's good, right? Look, Dean, I'm not here to poison you. I love you."

Dean looked at Sam, smiling the tiniest bit before he looked back down at his food as he kept eating, moaning a little. Hey, he could appreciate good food, you know? Especially if it was bacon or anything close to that. "Thanks, I guess? I don't wanna be poisoned."

Sam chuckled softly, moving to sit down, drinking some coffee himself. "Yeah, I'd guessed that... Look, I know you're not very happy. A hunter tied down? Yeah, that's not a great thing. You probably feel like you're going crazy, right?" Dean nodded, licking some syrup off his fingers, something that made Sam stare at his lips. It made Dean very uncomfortable, but he guessed he'd best let Sam stare. "But you also know I can't take the chains off completely. You're a hunter, you'd escape."

Dean supposed that was right, because, well, it was just the truth. His hunter instincts would make him escape the second Sam would give him the option. There was basically nothing he could do to stop that. "Well, I guess you're right. So what's your plan then?"

"Hope and pray. Okay, maybe I won't pray 'cause God and I aren't on great terms, but I will hope for you to like and trust me one day," Sam softly said, smiling nervously. Dean nodded slowly, just focusing on his food. Okay, so, he definitely could do this. If he just pretended to trust Sam, he could get out of here one day. "And until then, I'll just have to use this-" Dean looked up in confusion just in time to see Sam grab some sort of golden thing, reaching out to Dean's neck. Dean, as a reflex, tried to move away but suddenly couldn't move anymore. "Sorry, big brother. I knew I'd have to use my powers for this part. Don't worry, this won't hurt. Well, not if you don't struggle."

Maybe Dean had underestimated Sam, or maybe he was still hoping that this was all some kind of joke, or that Sam wasn't as bad as he pretended to be. But maybe it was time to face the truth: this was real, Sam was bad, and Dean now had a golden collar around his neck. It wasn't too tight, but it was tight enough to make Dean aware of it at any second. 

"This collar is tied to me. If you escape or move away from me more than a few feet, you will be pressed against the nearest object and unable to move until I come and get you. In worst case scenarios, my magic that's in the collar will make you black out," Sam softly said, running his fingers over the collar. Dean couldn't even speak, couldn't even do anything but let Sam do what he wanted to him. "And, just so you know how much it will hurt for my magic to make you black out, let's demonstrate."

Dean only somehow managed to let out a little whimper before everything went red at first as he felt the worst pain he had ever felt before. It was like he was being ripped apart from the inside out, and then stabbed and burned and ground into thousands pieces. It hurt so much, and it felt like it lasted for hours before Dean finally blacked out. Yeah, Sam was definitely not innocent anymore...


	15. The one with the thoughts

"One, two," Dean grunted a little, trying to do his sit-ups to the best of his ability in the small space he was in. Around three days had passed since Sam had put the golden collar around Dean's neck, and he still wasn't used to it. It was too tight, and it made him very uncomfortable. Okay, it wasn't hurting him or cutting off his air supply, but it made Dean very aware of how his freedom was now restricted. And as mentioned before, Dean really didn't like it to have his freedom restricted. It made him so uncomfortable, and it made his skin feel very itchy, like he was about to crawl out of it. Right now, with his new collar, Dean felt like he couldn't breathe even though it wasn't tight enough to choke him. It was just horrible. Dean really tried hard to keep his mind off it all, though. "Three, four."

For example: he worked out a lot more than he used to do back when everything was normal. He never enjoyed working out, but there weren't a lot of other things he could do in the room he was locked in. He couldn't get out, and even if he could, he would feel that horrible pain again. He hadn't forgotten at all how awful that collar could and would make him feel if he escaped (or tried to), but he rather not think about it again. It hurt like a bitch, let's just say that. It was the worst pain that Dean had ever felt, I mean he'd blacked out because of it, and he had to spend the entire day after waking up resting in bed, unable to move. His body had felt like it was on fire. There was nothing to distract him in the room. No TV or radio, because Sam had probably spent all of his money on the set of Vlad the Vamp the movie. All Dean could do was be alone with his thoughts.

This was a strategy, Dean knew that. Break the person, and you're able to manipulate them. Dean couldn't say that he was surprised once he figured out that this was what Sam was doing, because Sam knew all of his weaknesses, didn't he? Or well, most of them. Dean had made sure to  _never_ tell Sam all of his weaknesses, just in case situations like this happened. If no one knew all of his weaknesses, no one could use them against him. He didn't ever think it would be Sam who would be using his weaknesses against him, though. No. Maybe a demon or a vampire or another stupid ass monster, but not his Sam. Though, Dean guessed Sam was a monster now.

"Five, six, seven," The hard floor wasn't very great for Dean's back, but he didn't care enough about it to quit. He needed to do this, needed to work out to distract himself so he couldn't think too much. The side effects weren't too bad either, he already felt stronger. Or maybe that was just his mind playing tricks on him, Dean wasn't really sure. He just couldn't let his thoughts get to him, couldn't let them break him, couldn't let the guilt get to him. So, he was just going to work out more, and hopefully not go crazy. Sam was not going to get to him, not now or ever... 

*

Dean had murdered his own father.

Well, not exactly. He hadn't been the one to do the deed, he hadn't stabbed him or strangled him or shot him or done anything that could make him the murderer. Dean hadn't killed his father in that way, but yet he still thought himself to be the killer. It was his fault that his father had to sell his soul, because Dean had been dying back then. If Dean hadn't been so stupid- if Dean hadn't been such an idiot- if Dean hadn't been so worthless- yeah, maybe his plan to not let his thoughts get to him wasn't working as well as he thought it would.

Sam had been around in the past couple of days. Of course, it was really hard to avoid Sam seeing as there was nowhere to escape to, but there was always the option of ignoring him. There wasn't much else he could do, and he knew for a fact that pretending to not hear or see Sam hurt his little brother. There was just one tiny little problem: Sam seemed to be doing the same thing to him. And maybe it had been Dean who was bothered by being ignored all this time? Dean couldn't remember anymore, everything just seemed to be so hazy and confusing.

Dean knew he had to escape as soon as possible. He was afraid that the longer he stayed there, the more he would get brainwashed. He wasn't sure if Sam was trying to brainwash him, but why wouldn't he be? Surely he was ignoring Dean to drive him crazy, right? What other reason could there be? That's right, none.

Or maybe Dean was just looking into it too much. Maybe he was searching for the worst reasons and options and causes for everything? Because that was what he always did, wasn't it? Because he hated himself, kind of. Well, not kind of. It was obvious that he fully hated himself and there was not a single ounce of self love inside of his body. Sure, he still thought he was fucking gorgeous, but liking your outside was very different from liking your inside. Not your guts, your personality. Maybe Dean was actually sabotaging himself by letting all these thoughts go around in his brain. Now Dean didn't have to stop just Sam anymore. No, he also had to stop  _himself_ from breaking his own mind...

*

The collar was unbreakable. Dean had tried many times to take it off, even spending a few minutes thinking about maybe taking off his head. Sam would bring him back, and maybe in the meantime Dean could take his collar off? But then Dean realized that he would be dead and humans were unable to move when they were dead. So, that was not a good idea. 

And then Sam came to take him outside. By now at least a week had past in Dean's mind, and he was sure he had gone crazy. His brain hurt, and Dean kind of wanted to cry all the time. "You really need a shower."

Dean snorted, giving his baby brother a dirty look. Of course he needed a fucking shower. There luckily had been a toilet in the same room, but no shower. He'd been able to wash his face and hands and pits a little with the water that came from the sink, though there had been no soap or anything. He knew he smelled (it was still pretty hot all the time, and Dean got hot very easily), but what the hell could he do about it? He wasn't the one with magic, now was he? "Well, mister obvious, I've been stuck in this ugly ass room for what, a week? Haven't washed myself at all."

"The door was open the entire time," Sam said, raising a brow at Dean, just staring down at him. Dean clenched his jaw, not really sure what to say. He hadn't tried the door before, he had just assumed it was locked. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he at least tried? "You were the one who just didn't come out. I thought you were just being stubborn, as Dean Winchester usually is." 

"Fuck you," Dean grumbled, glaring at his brother as he got up. He pushed past him, making sure to bump their shoulders- sadly, Sam was faster than he was now and avoided him, which meant that Dean just kind of stumbled. He opened the door, look at that it actually is open, and looked around. Oh, a hallway. Dean wasn't sure what he expected (hellfire? Souls? The undead?), but a burgundy carpeted hallway was not it. There were a few doors, and Dean was trying to figure out which one was the one to go outside, when Sam was suddenly next to him. "So? Bathroom?"

"That one, right next to yours. Our  _shared_ bedroom has an en-suite," Sam purred out, winking at Dean who just shuddered, rolling his eyes before he went into the bathroom. It was pretty big, and very clean, with a bathtub and a shower and another toilet and a sink. It looked pretty great. "If you want to and if you're not going to be extremely stubborn again, I'll show you around the castle later on."

Of course Sam had a fucking castle. He was so dramatic. "Sure, whatever. Just let me take a shower, okay?" Sam hummed, nodding his head, not looking like he was going to leave. "Uh, dude. I know you're like, crazy in love with me or whatever, but get the fuck out, okay?"

Sam pouted before he grinned, winking at Sam and then walking away. Dean just sighed, shaking his head and waiting until the door was closed before he started to strip. Finally, alone in the shower. He was so happy about that. Little did Dean know what his brother had his eyes on him at all times, even when he wasn't in the same room...

 


	16. The one with the garden

It was like he could finally breathe again. Now that he had the collar, Sam let him go around the castle (because, yes, it was a castle) and explore without being there all the time. It was very nice to be able to be alone, because he was constantly wary around Sam. He couldn't help it, it was the hunter inside of him that kept him from being completely comfortable and relaxed. Dean knew that he couldn't be relaxed, because why wouldn't Sam use him and hurt him when he was? Yeah, exactly. So, Dean was on edge  _all the time._ And that tired him out like crazy. He woke up at every little sound, and there were a lot because, you know, he was in hell. Sam probably couldn't stop Dean from being tortured completely.

They were still in hell, after all.

The castle was huge. Even after days, Dean was sure he hadn't explored all of it. It was like a maze. One day a door could lead to a staircase, and the next to a room, and then to a wall. It was driving Dean crazy, and he was pretty sure that that was the exact purpose of it. Sam had great torture skills, but Dean saw right through them. Or he hoped he did, at least.

In the castle there were many rooms, and Dean couldn't remember what they all were. There was his room, which had a bathroom, and then a hallway leading to many more rooms. There were barely any windows, and most of them just looked out over fire. Freaking ironic, right? Hell, fire, hellfire. Dean didn't really like looking at it, reminded him of a past better left forgotten.

Dean had tried to figure out if there was a place he could go that wasn't a random room or fire, somewhere he could be outside. Luckily for him, there was. It wasn't like Dean was one for nature or something, he never enjoyed hiking very much and he did fine being inside all day, but after one or two days he did get antsy. He needed some fresh air, needed to run or work out outside or whatever. Hell, what he needed most was a ride with his baby, but that was probably not possible ever again. Dean tried not to think about it, because it hurt too much. Mentally, mostly. But sometimes he felt like he even had phantom pains, like he could still feel what it was like to be tortured there in Hell. So Dean rather not be outside in the fire, he wanted to be in a garden or hell, even a dirty gas-station bathroom would be better than being in Hell. He couldn't find anything on his own, though, so he had to face it: if he wanted stuff, he needed to ask his now worse enemy. 

"Sam," It had taken a while to even find his brother, but Sam was in his usual room which was basically just an office. It had a window, but every time Dean came into the room, Sam snapped his fingers and the curtains closed. Clearly there was something behind there that Sam didn't want Dean to see, which only made Dean more curious about whatever it was. He needed to see it now, but that was for another time. The younger male looked surprised, probably because he hadn't expected Dean to talk to him. The only times Dean had gotten in here was to stare at Sam in anger from the doorway, hoping to make Sam question his life choices. "Do you have a garden?"

"I... A garden? Not really. This is Hell, Dean, there aren't really gardens. Heaven has them, but Hell, no." Of course, that motherfucker had been up in Heaven, hadn't he? And now Dean would never even get to see that place. He wanted to, he'd been so good his entire life and now he would never even get to Heaven. All because his selfish little brother wanted him. "Why?"

"Well, I would like to go outside for some fresh freakin' air and not burn to death." Dean rolled his eyes, looking at his little brother with as much hate in his eyes as he could muster. But who was he kidding? Even though he wasn't very much enjoying what Sam was doing to him, he still didn't date Sam. He couldn't, it was impossible for him to do so. Dean was basically programmed to love his baby brother. 

"Oh. So, you'd like to have a garden?"

"Honestly, I'd like to be free, but, that's not going to happen. Having a garden or whatever, some place I could go outside in with some fresh air, that'd be the next best thing. And my car." Dean watched as Sam sighed, looking at the desk for a second before looking up again. Dean wondered what all the papers on Sam's desk were for. Did they really have paperwork in Hell? What even for? 

"I can't get the Impala down here, Dean, I haven't figured out how to make her survive yet," Sam softly said, making Dean huff and roll his eyes. "Hey, stop that. You know I got you down here so we could both be happy-"

"You know what, Sam? Suck my ass. You're such a selfish asshole. I was perfectly happy up on earth, thank you very much." Dean snapped, watching as Sam just stared at him, not even looking impressed by Dean's outburst. Huh, that made Dean very nervous.

"No you weren't." The new king of Hell spoke up, shaking his head. "You weren't happy at all. We had nothing, Dean.  _You_ had nothing. Everyone always thought you're the one who cared for me but have you ever thought that I care just as much for you as you do for me? Cause I do, Dean, I took care of you. I watched over you, made sure you didn't die, and made sure no one touched you. And I saw the pain you were in, always. You had nothing, and now I can finally give you everything you want. You want a garden? Done. You want your car? Just wait, she'll be down here soon. I'm going to make you happy, got that?" 

Dean swallowed the urge to say  _'yes, sir',_ and instead just looked away, trying not to give away how weirdly uncomfortable he felt. He had no idea what happened to Sam to make him this way, but whatever it was, it was not good. Dean had to fix this one way or another. He turned around, leaving the room again. He was going to fix Sam, no matter how long it would take...

*

Maybe it was Dean's fault for being attractive or something. Dean had been in charge of raising Sam, so, he had probably done something wrong somewhere. Maybe he had given Sam the idea that this was normal, that he only had the choice to be attracted to Dean. Or maybe Dean had forgotten to tell Sam about the whole ' _incest is illegal'_ thing? He had done something wrong at least, because this wasn't normal. And obviously it wasn't Sam's fault, 'cause Sam was young and innocent and Dean was his caretaker and well, there were no reasons needed. It was Dean's fault, there was no discussing that. 

Dean had gotten his garden. The next time he tried to go to Sam's office to glare at him, he actually walked into a freaking garden. To say it was beautiful was an understatement. It was amazing with so many flowers, and the air just felt so fresh. It smelled so much different from the air inside. Dean knew it probably wasn't real, but that didn't matter to him. He could pretend, and that was enough for Dean for now. At least it got his mind off Sam.

He had no idea how to feel about Sam anymore, because this wasn't his little brother, this was someone else. But if it wasn't his little brother, then what was stopping him from falling in love with Sam?


	17. The one where Dean needs attention

Days passed, and Dean didn't see Sam again. He spent most of his time in the garden, where it always seemed to be nice weather. There hadn't been any rain no matter how many times Dean went in and out the door, squinting up at the blue sky and the yellow sun. It just didn't rain, or hail, or anything bad. There was only sun, and whatever temperature it was. Dean didn't know, but it was nice. Not too hot, but just right so he could lay around in just a shirt. Whenever he wanted to garden the temperature seemed to drop a little so he wouldn't overheat and get sweaty again. It was probably Sam's doing, because Sam knew him way too well. It was kind of scary how well Sam knew him.

Dean wasn't sure how to feel about not seeing Sam for the past few days. Sure, he had kidnapped Dean and wanted to make Dean into his, uh, pleasure slave and that wasn't really anything that Dean was even remotely into. But, still, Dean couldn't help but be concerned about his little brother. It was hard, really, because he knew he shouldn't be thinking or feeling this way. He loved Sam in some way, still, no matter what he had done. Because Dean just couldn't stop loving his once so sweet and wonderful Sam.

I mean, Sam wasn't all bad, right? As far as Dean knew, Sam wasn't actually doing anything bad. Dean had expected black eyes, murderous intentions, and a whole lot of a terrifying mess. He at least had thought Sam was going to try and make the apocalypse happen. Obviously Dean wasn't exactly sure what was happening on the outside because hey, he wasn't on earth currently. As a matter of fact, Dean had no idea where he was. Where was Hell? In the middle of earth? That was what people always said, right? Dean literally had no idea where he was, but wherever he was, he guessed he liked it. But even though Dean wasn't and couldn't be sure of what was happening on earth, Dean really did believe that Sam wasn't doing anything bad. 

Sam might be the king of Hell, but he was still Dean's baby brother, no matter what. And that was why Dean was still concerned about Sam, because there was still something inside of him that told him that he needed to take care of Sam. It was ingrained into him, and Dean couldn't just hate Sam. But he was afraid of any other feelings that he would develop. Or,  _could_ possibly develop. It was scary to think of the fact that he could fall in love with Sam. 

Dean never had a problem admitting that his little brother was handsome. Sure, he would always say that he was the one who got the looks, but Sam wasn't too bad either. He had that soft hair, which was still too long by the way,  but maybe that was just for a certain kink? Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Anyways, he had sunflower eyes, pretty lips, and those moles, and not to mention a killer body. Dean himself had to admit that his horrible diet had caught up with him  _a little bit,_ which left him with a very slightly soft tummy. But he was still very strong, and a great hunter.

Sam was handsome, really, gorgeous even. Dean could admit that. But he wasn't in love with Sam, and he wasn't going to ever be in love with Sam. Or at least he hoped he wouldn't be. Because if he was going to be in love, Dean had no idea what he would ever do...

*

"Sam, I know you're probably mad at me or whatever. I mean, I get it, I'm annoying and stubborn and whatever. But seriously, dude, get over it please?" Dean was laying on his bed, bored as hell. Even more days without Sam had passed, and Dean hadn't seen anyone else either, not even any annoying demons. It was driving Dean crazy, making his skin feel itchy, and he wanted to kind of sort of felt like he needed Sam right now. Or at least any human being who he could talk to. "I... I'm sorry, okay? For whatever I did, I'm sorry. I really am. Just... Come talk to me? Or at least let me know you're okay. I still care about you, somehow."

Dean sighed, closing his eyes. He just hoped this would work, because he was literally going crazy. The lack of contact was not good for his brain. Dean was okay with being alone for hours on, but after what had to be at least one and a half week he was really dying for some attention. This was probably part of Sam's plan but Dean didn't really care anymore. He  _needed_ attention, no matter what. He didn't really care if it was good or bad, he just needed to see Sam's pretty face again. And no, he didn't just think Sam's face was pretty. He just had to remember that he could not fall in love with his little baby brother...

*

"Missed me, huh?" Dean couldn't stop smiling and he even rushed to hug Sam, patting his back awkwardly before he pulled away again. Sam looked all smug, knowing that yes, Dean had indeed missed him. Maybe Dean would not ever admit it but, Sam knew it anyways. He could see right through his big brother. 

"So, uh, thanks for the garden," Dean softly said, biting on his already ruined lip. He felt kind of nervous for some reason, probably because he hadn't talked to Sam in so long. It was so nice to be with his brother again, it kind of felt like he had come home or something. Because Sam was still his home, no matter how evil or dark he was. "It's pretty good."

"It's modeled exactly after how your ideal garden would look like," Sam sort of purred out, looking even more smug as Dean blushed a little. "So, it's no wonder you like it, darling. How are you feeling today? I don't have much time right now since I have business it attend to, but, we can have some fun together for now."

"R- Right, not much time," Dean couldn't help but feel very disappointed. He'd hoped he could maybe drive down a road with Sam, or do something else that was fun. He really would want to spend hours with Sam, but, apparently that was not going to happen. He wanted to cry again. "Uh, I'm good. I guess."

"That's nice to hear. I'll have someone bring you dinner," Sam said, smiling at Dean before he turned away again. "We can talk later, can't we? Have a nice evening, baby." Dean frowned as he watched Sam walk away, biting his lip hard. He was pretty unhappy by now, because he wanted Sam to stay, he wanted Sam to be there for so much longer. He loved Sam, and he needed him. He really, really needed him...

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny filler, because I didn't have much time to write but I wanted to update anyways. Let me know what you think of Sam bringing Dean into a new reality? And if you have any, please do give me ideas for some new twists in the story...

_1\. Get new sheets for the bed. Too itchy._

_2\. Clean towels, please?_

_3\. Come talk to me, damn it. I'm bored out of my mind._

_4\. Stop turning up the Hell-heating, I know I look great without a shirt but I don't like being that hot._

_5\. Explain everything to me._

*

Dean was unhappy. While that wasn't a very new thing, because he had been unhappy for most of his life, it was very annoying to Sam. It had never been Sam's plan to let his brother be unhappy, because in the end he loved his brother more than anything, and he wanted nothing but happiness and love for Dean. He thought he could make Dean happy by doing all this, but it seemed like he had messed everything up and made it even worse than before by bringing Dean home. And with home he meant his castle in Hell. Dean wasn't happy there, he was scared and uncomfortable and alone and bored. He had managed to make Dean feel even unhappier than he did before.

Sam had resorted to giving Dean some paper, letting him make notes of what he wanted and needed. Most of them were filled with  _'freedom, outside, friends'._ It made Sam feel horrible about what he had done to Dean. He had literally changed Dean's reality, made him think he was a different person, like he was Dean Smith who worked hard and only cared about said work. And then when Dean finally figured everything out after nearly going crazy, Sam basically kidnapped him and dragged him down into Hell. Wasn't he just the best brother in the world? Yeah, exactly. Not.

He understood why Dean was unhappy. He himself wasn't happy either. Maybe he should start over? Start anew? Make himself and Dean a new reality where Dean wouldn't be bothered by them being brothers? He could make Dean a mechanic, he could be a lawyer himself. He could still rule over Hell and have his brother at the same time, and everything would be perfect and they both would be happy. Wouldn't that just be great? 

But it wouldn't be real, would it? It would never be real. Dean would never really love him, because that was just... Impossible. Even if Sam managed to shape this new world for him and Dean and make it so that Dean could love him without being bothered by anything, it still wouldn't be real. Dean wouldn't  _really_ love him, he would just think that he loved Sam. It would always be fake, everything would be fake. But maybe fake would be better than nothing?

His other options to make Dean happy weren't great either. Actually, the only thing Sam could think of was to let Dean go. Of course, that would be the end of it all, wouldn't it? Because eventually Dean would either find a way to bring Sam back to normal or even to kill him. And then Sam wouldn't have Dean anymore, and that would be the worst thing ever. Sam loved Dean, loved him so damned much. He wanted to be with him forever, which is why he became the king of Hell in the first place. But it had all turned out to be a mistake, it had all been wrong. He had been so fucking stupid, thinking he could finally get what he wanted. Why would Dean even like him? Or love him? He was worthless, gross, disgusting. He was a nobody. No one loved him, not even his brother.

And now he was in this big mess, which he somehow had to fix. He had to make Dean happy again, one way or another, no matter what. He knew Dean had to be happy one day, and he would be the one making Dean happy. He would it right this time. This reality would be perfect, no bad things. Just him, Dean, and their house. And Dean would love it, wouldn't he? And Dean would him, wouldn't he? Finally, everything would be perfect...

 


	19. Happily ever after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a shitty ending, but I feel like I've been milking this story for way too long. I just can't think of anything to add to this anymore, and I'm sorry for that but I'm going to have to end this here. Thank you all for your support, and I hope you liked the story. Also, you can check out my other stories for more of my terrible writing, and there will soon also be another dark sub/dom story with Wincest.

Magic came with a price, power came with responsibility.

Sam had never known how hard life could be even if he could get everything he'd ever wanted. He thought that if he became the king of Hell, everything he had ever dreamed of having would be his'. Dean would be his'. It would just be so damn perfect, wouldn't it? Who didn't want to have everything they ever wanted? But, even when Sam had everything he wanted, Dean wasn't happy. And then Sam found out that maybe, if Sam had just talked to him instead of turn him into Dean Smith and then later on kidnap him and lock him up in Hell, they could have been together happily ever after. 

That just made everything even more horrible. Sam realized he had ruined pretty much everything, which had been the exact opposite of his plan, and he knew that he needed to fix it somehow. But how, you ask? Well, Sam didn't fucking know either. For a few hours all he did was sit and think, because there had to be a way to fix all of this again. And then it hit him: go back to normal. Sam couldn't exactly go back in time, even the king of Hell wasn't strong enough to do that, but what he could do was erase all of Dean's memories of what Sam had done to him and make sure that Dean couldn't remember any of his time as Dean Smith or as a prisoner of Hell. He needed to bring him back to Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, before Sam became the king of Hell. Technically seen Sam would still be the king, but at least Dean wouldn't know it and it wouldn't bother him.

And then, in the end, Dean and Sam were going to be happy again. They were going to be hunters, which would be completely normal for them, and Sam would forever keep it a secret that he had managed to turn himself into an evil being. But that didn't matter because he wasn't evil, he really wasn't. All he'd ever tried was to make things better for his big brother, and he just hadn't done it the right way. He was going to do it the right way now, though, he was going to make sure of that.

First things first, he needed to wipe Dean's memory. This was the most important step of the plan, because Dean couldn't remember anything anymore or the entire plan would just fail. Sam had done it before, he could do it again, but this time he had to make sure that there was no way in hell that Dean could ever get his memories back. This would take more power, more energy, but Sam would do it for Dean. Sam would do  _anything_ for Dean, now wouldn't he? 

So, Sam set to work. He worked days on getting his plan perfected, because there couldn't and shouldn't be any flaws. After perfecting it, he decided to execute it. Of course, he managed to tell every single demon in hell and any other supernatural creature he could reach to never ever ever tell Dean about everything that happened, because that would also ruin his plan. The great thing was that everyone who knew he was the king was afraid of him, and they would never disobey as long as he was said king. 

And maybe later on, once Dean died, he could manage to 'get him into Heaven'. Dean would go out on a hunt, the way he wanted to, and then Sam would drag him down into Hell and pretend it was Heaven. The oldest Winchester would believe it because why wouldn't he trust his little brother? If everything went according to Sam's plan, then they should be a couple soon, and they should be very happy together. Sam was convinced that this time, it was going to work. But if it didn't, he was just going to try again. After all, he was the king of hell, and he could do whatever he wanted with his human brother.

No matter what, he wasn't going to give up on trying to get what he wanted. In the end he would have Dean, and they would be happy. They would love each other and finally have their well deserved happily ever after with Sam as the king and Dean as his oblivious queen...


End file.
